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SUN-RISE PAPERS; 



OR, 



LEAVES FROM MY PORT FOLIO 



BY J. S. OHADBOUHNE- 



We shall have enough of sleep in our graves." — 

Poor Richarjj 



CINCINNATI :— ROBINSON AND JONES. 
^ From the Queen City Press, corner of Fourth & Sj^^aniore-Sts. 

1847. 






C a, 



To Charles Gordon Greene, Esq.. of Boston i 



With the highest esteem for his ability and in- 
tegrity as the conductor of an influential puhlic 
journal, and with admiration for the nobility of 
his spirit as a man, the following pages are, ivith- 
out his permission, respectfully inscribed by 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



The following pieces have been taken, almost 
at random, from a large number of a similar cha- 
racter, which have been accumulating in the Port 
Folio of the author, for two or three years past — 
the fruits of his leisure hours. It was his intention 
when the first sheets of this pamphlet were printed, 
several months since, to have made a draught upon 
the matter thus collected, sufficient for a book of 
respectable size, in boards; and he would here make 
his acknowledgments to gentlemen of the Press, for 
the flattering terms in which they noticed the con- 
tents of those sheC'S. As the articles, however, were 
mostly but little more than fragments, and were 
chiefly in the form of essays, it was afterwards deemed 
advisable to make an experiment in view of ascer- 
taining tiie manner in which they would be received 
by tlie public, by first sending out a few of them 
in a cheap form, before hazarding the expense of a 
Book; and it remains to be seen, whether the dove 
which has thus been dispatched from the ark, will 
return with the olive leaf in its mouth. 

The articles of which it is composed make no pre- 
tensions, as already intimated, to being finished and 



VI 



elaborate productions ; they claim to be nothing more 
than a simple garland of wild flowers and green leaves, 
plucked by an enraptured hand from those sweet 
vales which breathe with perpetual fragrance and 
ring with perpetual song. As such they are re- 
spectfully laid at the feet of the public. 
Covington, Ky., May, 1847. 



Vll 



@®lTliTS. 



PAGE 

The Toiler, 9 

The Statue, 14 

"Sports of the Turf," 16 

The Eaglets, 21 

Balloons and Ballooning, .... 22 

A Day on Lake Eri«, 24 

Anecdote of Dress, 36 

The Wolves, 38 

Song, . . 39 

Our Naval Victories, ... . . 40 

The Village Preacher, . . . . .42 

Angels, . 48 

Clouds, ........ 50 

The Literature of Signs, .... 53 

Two Days at Niagara, 54 

To an Ocean Cliff, 62 

On a Green Veil, 64 

The Village Orator, 64 

The Giant Oak, 71 

Visit to North Bend, . .... 74 

The Cincinnati Fire Department, . . .72 

Self Reliance, 78 

Press Onward, . . .... 79 

A Chapter on Names, 82 



To my Port Folio, 



Embroider'd by white hands and beauteous eyes, 
As skillfully as blushing Flora weaves 
Her roses in the verdant grass and leaves, 
Beneath Columbia's blue and sunny skies, 
ToKE?j OF Friendship! thee I greatly prize. 

An humble destiny is thine; the sheaves 
Of thought, rich with their weight of harvest gold, 
Which Genius binds, thou uiayst not hope t' infold; 
But simple leaves and wild flowers will be thine. 
Yet if they be as fragrant and as fair, 
As Mary's virtuous deeds and sunny hair, 
Thou mayst not o'er thy lowly lot repine. 



m 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 



THE TOILER. 



Stand up — erect! thou hast the form 
And likeness of thy God! — who more'? 

A soul as dauntless raid the storm 
Of daily life, a heart as warm 

And pure as breast ere wore. 

Gallagher. 



I. 

Crouch not at the feet of Mammon- 
Toiler, bend not to the clod ! 

Stand thou up in Saxon manhood, 
Feel thou hast the form of God ! 

Scorn the rich thy humble cottage? 

Scorn to take thy toil-hard hand? 
Vile the scorn — with pity fling it 

Back upon the craven band. 

In thy heart is fire more holy, 
In thy breast a heart more bold, 



10 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

Than the rich man hath to battle. 
Than he hath with all his gold. 

II. 

Thou hast struggled long and nobly, 
And, amid the sweaty hour, 

Oft hast envied much the rich man, 
Sitting in hie shady bower. 

Cast the envy ever from thee! 

Glory 'lis to earn our bread: 
Sweet, O sweet, the meal, though humble, 

Which our own free toil hath spread. 

Cast the envy ever from thee! 

Sweet at night our balmy rest, 
When remorse for sun-light wasted, 

Harrows not the guilty breast. 

Cast the envy ever fropi thee! 

Man on earth hath work to do; 
And who worketh strongest, boldest, 

Is the man most great and true. 

Bowing to thine axe's valor, 
Forests thunder to the plain; 

From thy plough and God's rich blessing, 
Shine the fields with golden grain. 

Giant ships their sails outspreading, 
On the wild and boundless sea; 

Spires and domes in sunlight burning — 
Toiler! these were reared by thee! 

Crouch not at the feet of Mammon, 
Builder of the ship and tower; 

Greater in thy humble cottage, 
Than the rich man in his bower. 



SUN-RISE PAPEKS. 

III. 

When the cloud of war is pealing, 
And the land is filled with woe, 

Whither come the iron warriors. 
Who hurl back the dastard foe? 

In his bower the rich man stayeth, 
With his cheek all craven white; 

Flame on high the burning cities, 
Till the Toiler's arm doth smite; 

Smite for country and for hearth-stone. 
Smite to free the land from foes; 

Smite for country and for hearth-stone — 
Fall like thunder-strokes his blows. 

Then the foe dotli rue the onset, 
And his squadrons wildly flee; 

Quick embarking in his vessels. 
Flees he back across the sea. 

Crouch not at the feet of Mammon, 
Ye who face the storm of war! 

Stand ye up, the Sons of Freedom I 
Stand ye up, and make the law! 

IV. 

Now the sun of Peace is shining, 
And the flowers all brightly bloom: 

Long, O long, upon the breezes. 
May they shed their rich perfume. 

Yet, yet, I see bold warriors. 

Marching with their flowing plumes ; 

Loud, O loud, the roar of battle 
From a field of conflict booms! 



11 



12 S U N-B ISE PAPERS. 

Banners on the sky are floating, 
Banners black and banners white — 

Darkness all her Hessians pouring — 
Who doth strike for man and right? 

In his bower the rich man sitteth, 
Whilst is waged the fierce affray; 

Mindless how the contest endeth, 
There he sits the livelong day. 

Soft reclining on his cushions, 
Heeds he not the prisoners' cry — 

Bound in chains and crushed in dungeons, 
There he suffers them to die. 

God of Mercy! bless the Toiler! 

Quick he did his falchion draw. 
And with heart for man outgushing, 

Strong he smites in moral war. 

Crouch not at the feet of Mammon, 
Warrior of the living God I — 

Floating in thy cap white plumage, 
Scorn to soil it with the clod. 



V. 

Thus forever beauty spreading 
O'er the land and o'er the sea; 

In the wars his true steel drawing, 
Honored should the Toiler be. 

Yet the Toiler toils w/ihonored, 
And he honoreth not himself I 

Down he croucheth to the rich man, 
Down before his hoarded pelf. 

"I am nothing but a Toiler, 
Toil I daily for my bread I 



sun-ris:e papers. 13 

Smile upon me, O great rich, man, 
In thy bower, with roses spread." 

Shame, shame, upon thee, Toiler! 

Thus thy children to disgrace: 
Shame, O shame! at thy low cringing, 

Manhood hides its blushing face! 

Shame, O shame, upon the Nation! — 

Let it burn in prose and rhyme — 
Virtue mocked and Mammon worshipped^ 

Sloth beflattered — Labor crime! 

VI. 

What will make the Toiler honored 1 

What will give him self-respect? 
What will make him, still a toiler, 

Be esteemed and stand — erect? 

Tell us, chainer of the lightning — 

Ploughman of the Roman state — 
Tell us, by your bright examples. 

What will make the Toiler great? 

Tell us Day, from night outbursting — 

Stars that shine amid the night : 
Shout they all in mighty chorus — 

Give him knowledge — give him light! 



2 t 



14 S IT N-R ISE PAPERS. 



THE STATUE 



What Sculpture is to a block of marble, Education is to the human 
soul. The philosopher, the saint, the hero, the wise, the g-ood, or the 
great man, very often lies hid and concealed in a plebeian, which a proper 
education mig-ht have disinterred and have brought to light. 

A DDISON, 



I once saw in the studio of a Sculptor a block of 
beautiful Italian marble. It was intended for a statue; 
but the chisel had not yet been applied to it. The 
fine quality of the stone attracted my attention; but 
the block was a rough and an unshapely one, and 
covered with earthy stains. It required indeed close 
observation to detect the fineness and purity of the 
marble which was thus obscured. The Sculptor was a 
young man, ardently attached to his profession, and 
had procured the block at great expense, and with a 
sacrifice of ease and comfort which ought to put our 
efieminate and luxurious young men to the blush. 
Under these circumslances, I became much interested 
in the statue which was to be awakened into life by 
his chisel. 

The Sculptor's residence was in a distant city from 
my own place of abode; and I did not visit his studio 
again for about three years. When I then called on 
him, the statue was completed; and a noble creation 
it was. The marble had been " fearfully and wonder- 
fully" wrought; it had become man; yes, the chisel of 
that young Sculptor had " breathed the breath of life 
into its nostrils !" What symmetry — what majesty — h(5\v 
finely polished! I felt a conscious awe as I stood, 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 



15 



with my head uncovered, in the presence of that noble 
creation of genius. 

The statue was a figure of Benjamin Franklin; and 
as my mind ran bacli over its history, in connection with 
that of the illustrious Philosopher and immortal Patriot, 
whose thoughtful and benevolent cast of features it pos- 
sessed, I was more forcibly impressed than ever with the 
beauty and the truthfulness of the simile at the head of this 
paper. Franklin — at fifteen, a poor printer's-boy ; at fifty, 
a chainer of the lightning; at all times, an ardent, a perse- 
vering, and a self-denying student — was a sculptor in a 
higher sense than was the young man alluded to. The 
beautiful marble, upon which he wrought, was his own 
soul; tlie statue which he created, was his own intellectual 
and moral greatness; and what a statue! It will stand 
beside that of Newton, in the Temple of Fame, the 
admiration of all coming ages. 

There was an interesting circumstance connected with 
the production of the material statue, which should alike 
encourage such persons as are striving for an education, 
but have little time for study, and rebuke those who 
neglect the cultivation of their minds altogether on this 
accomit. The young Sculptor was still a i student, and, 
as has been already hinted, was in indigent circum- 
stances. He wrought out nearly the whole of that noble 
statue in half-hours which he snatched from his meals, 
and during evenings after his duties for the day with 
his master had been discharged. Think of that, young 
men in shops and stores ! What a beautiful statue can 
you create from the unpolished marble of your minds, if 
you will do likewise. 

Another reflection. The statue was only accomplished 



16 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

by long and diligent toil. It did not leap from the marble 
with a single stroke of the chisel. The Sculptor spent 
upon it hundreds of weary hours, while most other young 
men of his own age were seeking pleasure in fashion- 
able amusements. The morning star often found him at 
his toil. Yet, think not to him that toil was irksome. It 
was the highest pleasure. He cheerfully performed the 
drudgery of bringing the block into its proper shape, at 
the commencement of his work; and who can tell the 
rapture of his feelings as he saw it assuming its form 
of majesty and beauty beneath the skillful strokes of his 
chisel. The application of this reflection to self-culture is 
sufficiently obvious. 



"SPORTS OF THE TURF." 

The " Sports of the Turf," are among the most cruel 
and demoralizing vices now in practice. It is well known 
that in some sections of our Union, they are very fash- 
ionable, and are not visited with the odium of public 
opinion. 

Having occasion to visit the capital of one of the 
southern counties of Ohio, in the autumn of 1844, I 
found the little village in a tremor of excitement ; the 
annual races of the county commencing the next day. 
The roads had been almost impassable from heavy rains, 
for some days past, but the hotels and stables were, never- 
theless, filled to overflowing, with jockeys and horses — 
I beg the horses' pardon — from tiie surrounding country. 



S U N-R ISEPAPERS. 17 

And as I had never, in my simplicity, witnessed so refined 
and noble an exhibition as a horse-race, with whip and 
spur, I resolved to attend on tlie afternoon of the princi- 
pal race . 

The course was a mile-circle, upon a broad, clayey 
plain. I found a large concourse of spectators assembled, 
and impatiently waiting the commencement of the race. 
The purse was a hundred dollars ; the conditions of the race 
— the best in three heats, of three miles each. Only two 
competitors appeared to contest tlie race ; the one a fiery 
gray horse, that came rearing and plunging on to the 
course, with half a dozen men at his bits, and the other 
a bay mare, as kind and gentle as a lamb. Botli of them 
were lank as grey-hounds. The gray appeared to be the 
general favorite, and the bets were greatly in his favor. 
But for my own part, although I admired his fiery spirit, 
my sympathies were all with the mild and docile bay. 

The judges having directed the riders to mount, the 
drum beat, and the horses were off' with the speed of 
deer; the mare, whose eye lit up with lightning at the 
first tap, taking the lead — which she held through the first 
mile; during the second, however, her antagonist passed 
her, and came in about two rods ahead, at the end of the 
heat. The applause was enthusiastic from his friends. 
'• Hurrah for the gray ! hurrah for the gray ! Five to one 
on the gray!" shouted men and boys, running over the 
plain in every direction, with bank-bills in their hands. 
A great many bets were taken in this way, merely for 
the excitement of betting, I presume, as everybody, 
except her owner, seemed to have lost all confidence in 
the mare. She did not appear, however, to be so much 
worried as the horse, though the sweat poured from her 



18 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

sides in torrents. Her owner asserted that she would run 
better now that she had got warm, and her stock began 
to rise among the jockeys before the commencement of 
the next heat. 

Fifteen minutes having elapsed, the horses were again 
brought on to the course, the gray rearing and plunging, 
and the bay kind and gentle as before. The drum again 
beat, and away they went a second time, like rockets, 
the mare again taking the lead. The prediction of her 
owner was fulfilled; she ran altogether better than upon 
the first heat. The horse made a tremendous effort to 
pass her during the second and third miles; but she came 
in in spite of him two or three rods ahead. Her stock 
was now fully on a par with that of her antagonist. It 
was now " Hurrah for tlie gray !" and " Hurrah for the 
bay !" all over the plain. The jockeys, who had bet 
'''jive to owe" on the gray, tried to throw up the stakes, 
but the other parties chose to abide the issue of the race. 
His owner foamed with rage and disappointment, having 
had so great a confidence in the superior speed of his 
horse, that he had expected that this heat would put an 
end to the contest. But there was now a chance of his 
being beat, and he raved like a madman. 

At the commencement of the third heat, the excite- 
ment became intense. The bay again took the lead. 
Both riders now spurred and whipped their noble anni- 
mals in desperation. The gray came up with his antag- 
onist during the first mile, and for some time it was neck 
and neck — hoof and hoof. The spectators were complete- 
ly borne away by excitement, and ran from one side of 
tlie course to the other, as the horses went round — 
"Hurrah! for the gray!''' — "Hurrah! for the hayV' 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 19 

" The gray will pass her! see him lay down to it ! 
Hurrah! for the grayT — "Hurrah! for the hay. It isn't 
in his power to pass her, by thunder ! I've seen that 
mare run before. Hurrah! for the hayP'' — "Go it, you 
cripples!" shouted an old Rummy, with but one leg, 
flourishing his crutch over his head — " Go it, you cripples, 
while your legs last!" The enthusiasm of the friends of 
the horse, however, soon began to cool down, as he was 
gradually losing ground, and it was evident that the mare 
would come in first — which she did, a few rods, amid 
thunders of applause — the rider of her antagonist being so 
overcome with rage and mortification, that he tumbled 
from his seat beneath his horse's feet. 

Both horses w^ere now in a pitiable condition, blood 
running from their strained and livid nostrils, as well as 
oozing from the spur-wounds in their sides, gasping for 
breath, the sweat pouring off from them in torrents, and 
tlieir eyes dim as death. 

I am not of the number of those who object to every 
species of public amusement. On the contrary, I think 
that tlie moral and intellectual progress of society demands 
days of general recreation and reunion. But against 
" amusements" of a cruel nature, or a pernicious influ- 
ence, it becomes every well-wisher of society to hurl his 
indignant rebuke : and the " Sports of tlie Turf," as al- 
ready intimated, are thoroughly obnoxious in both these 
respects. 

They are cruel. Think of the pitiable condition in 
which horses come out of races, and of the almost starv- 
mg state in which they are kept for months before a 
race; think also of the hundreds of fine animals which 
are yearly ruined upon the truf. Is it not the very height 



20 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

of cruelty, to thus abuse so noble and useful an animal 
as the horse, merely for our ammement; an animal, 
which, in peace draws our carriages and bears our 
burdens, and in war pants for the fury of the battle, at 
the somid of the trumpet. Out upon the inhuman and 
cowardly practice of spuring him upon a race-course, till 
the blood flows from his sides and nostrils! 

The " Sports of the Turf are demoralizing. From 
their very nature they produce and cultivate the vice of 
betting. At the race of which I have spoken, there were 
probably not less than a thousand bets made ; boys putting 
up their shillings, as well as men their dollars. Gam- 
bling in other forms, and drinking, and fighting, follow, 
as a matter of course. Again : these " Sports" corrupt 
public morals on the same principle that do the Bull 
Fights of Spain; being like them, both barbarous and 
grovelling. Every thing upon a race-course is calculated 
to fill the mind with low and debasing emotions. The 
friends of the turf are challenged to point out a single 
bright feature in a turf scene, which thousands have 
assembled to witness, except the noble ambition that is 
often manifested by the horses to excel. Add to this the 
circumstance that an Exhibition upon a race-course is one 
of purely physical prov>^ess; and that this comparatively 
grovelling quality is thereby exalted in the public mind to 
the prejudice of the intellectual. We might justly expect 
that a people, who were greatly addicted to horse-racing, 
or to any other vice of a similar nature, would be pugil- 
istic in their habits as well as ignorant. They would be 
likely to have more admiration for a Milo than for a 
Homer. 

Such are the " Sports of the Turf;" and it is be- 



S U N-R ISEPAPERS. 21 

lieved, that it is only necessary for the attention of a 
virtuous and humane community to be more earnestly 
directed to their character and tendency, in order to their 
receiving its universal and indignant frown. 



THE EAGLETS. 

The nest of the Golden Eagle, the most noble of the " Royal 
family" of birds, is always built upon an inaccessible shelf 
of some precipice or cliff, and is composed of a few naked 
sticks and brambles. Indeed, so scanty is the collection that 
the eggs may be often said to be deposited upon the naked 
rock. The habit which Eagles have of driving their young 
from their nest, as soon as they are fledged, is well known. 

Upon the thunder-beaten cliffs. 

Which on the barren mountains frown, 

The Eagles build their scanty nest, 
And scorn the luxury of down. 

They build their nest of naked sticks, 

And rear in poverty their young, 
And soon as fledged they drive them forth 

The breezes and the storms among. 

The dauntless Eaglets spread their wings. 
And strive, and tireless strive, to rise. 

By storms hurled back, by winds sped on. 
And range, at length, the upper skies. 

Proud, to the mansions of the Sun, 

They wing their bold and glorious flight ; — 

The little sparrow sees with awe, 

Their plumage bathed in ether bright. 



22 s U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

And thus upon the naked rocks, 
And 'mid the barren wastes of life, 

Doth Glory rear her eagle sons. 
And give them to an early strife. 

She gives them to the breeze and storm, 
They rise — they fall — but struggle on; 

And strong at last, the world beholds 
Their dauntless soarings to the Sun. 



BALLOONS, AND BALLOONING. 

Reader, have you ever seen a balloon, and a balloon 
ascension ? I shall take it for granted that you have, and 
that you went into rhapsodies at the spectacle. What 
could be more beautiful than the great yellow, or striped, 
silk balloon, with its delicate net- work and willow car ? what 
more magnificent than to behold it swinging to and fro 
in its struggles to free itself from terra Jirma, and at 
lengtli going off to the clouds, shaking the sunbeams from 
its pinions, with the daring velocity of the eagle! Who 
wonders that the multitude hurrah — that the ladies wave 
tlieir white handkerchiefs — that even the quakers flourish 
tlieir broad-brimmed hats! Every body is delighted, ex- 
cept some crabbed old fellow or other, with horn-bowed 
spectacles, who stands apart, and soliloquizes : 

" The people are pleased, and are hurrahing with all 
their might. But their hurrahs are those of boys. The 
women are butterflies; the quakers are fools. That great 
shining balloon is full of gas; there is nothing in it but 



S U N-R ISEPAPERS. 23 

"GA-s; it rises on account of its gas; and when its gas is 
expended it will come down again. Who of this whole 
shouting multitude will then hurrah! The fellow who has 
■gone up in the balloon is a stark mad-man. He will get 
enough of gas and thin air before he gets down again. 
After he has been knocked about by the wiiids among the 
clouds for an hour or two, and is nearly frozen to death, 
he will be glad to let off' his gas, and wind up with a 
ducking in tiie ocean, or a tumble down some good lady's 
chimney. A fine figure he will then cut, dripping with 
water, or black with soot. A.s for the balloon itself — it's 
a humbug, a sheer humbug; and it will be flat enough 
as soon as the gas is out of it." 

Such talk as this, dear poetical reader, is outrageous, 
is it not? What a pity the old gentleman is a philoso- 
pher! 

The present, is an age of balloons and ballooning — 
of balloons figurative as well as of balloons literal — of 
great silk balloons and little paper balloons — of balloons 
of all colors and all sizes — of balloons in morals — bal- 
loons in politics — balloons in literature. The men and 
boys are all hurrahing, the quake rs flourishing their broad- 
brimmed hats, and the ladies waving their white hand- 
kerchiefs, as the balloons go up. And no wonder; for 
some of tliem are " beautiful exceedingly." Let us 
particularize one or two of the great silk ones. 

The most magnificent balloon of the age is the theory 
of Nonresistance. There is a million yards of the purest 
white silk in this gorgeous balloon. Its net-work is of 
golden threads and its wicker car of braided moonbeams. 
How it glitters in the sun ! The quakers having inflated 
this balloon, are now shouting to Brother Jonathan to cut 



'^4 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

the cords which confine it to the eartli, and jump into 
the frail car with tliem. Jonathan, ahhough he looks on 
with an admiring eye, has a "notion "that he had better 
stay where he is; and so friend Humphrey expostulates 
with him : " What ! art thou afraid of the few black clouds 
in the sky ? I am sure, friend, that they will all melt 
away in the effulgence of our balloon. Thy fears are 
groundless. The great vault of heaven will be filled with 
sunshine and meek blue ether. Come into the car, friend 
Jonathan. Thy example will have an influence upon thy 
older brother, John, whom they surname. Bull." But 
Jonathan, with a smile upon his lip, still declines ; and 
lest his refusal should be attributed to an undue fear of 
the thunder-clouds, or to an indifference to the beauty of 
the ether, from a lack of the poetical, rather than to his 
philosophy, I shall here record the opinion of the gentle- 
man witli tlie horn-bowed spectacles in reference to the 
white balloon : 

" The white balloon is beautiful — splendid — but it 
is full of GAS. And what folly to think that the black 
scowling thunder-clouds would be melted by the sunbeams 
which would be reflected from its surface. The ' Storm 
King' wouldn't want a finer target for his artillery than 
this same white balloon. The sky has ever been dark- 
ened with storms, and, until there is a radical change in 
the whole philosophy of nature, it ever will be. It would, 
therefore, be insane folly to go up in the white balloon ; 
though it will do tlie hearts of men good to look upon it 
so long as it is confined to the earth. The quakers mean 
right; but they are not philosophers. They have the harm- 
lessness of doves, without the wisdom of serpents." 

Another splendid balloon is the scheme of Socialisnir 
or Fourieri&ni, as it is more popularly called. This is a 



STJN-RISE PAPERS. 



25 



striped silk balloon — the stripes red and yellow — the most 
poetical of all balloons. I would go a thousand miles to 
touch the hem of the man's garment, who sewed it 
together. The moral diseases, we are told, which have 
so long afflicted the world, and which are far more fright- 
ful than the spotted Plague, or the Cholera with his 
blood-shot eyes, are all entirely and unqualifiedly the 
result of a pestilential atmosphere. In other words, all our 
evils, moral, social, and political, arise from a false organ- 
ization of Society. And it is proposed to get out of this 
noxious atmosphere by going up in the balloon of Social- 
ism. When we are once away from terra Jirma our 
cheeks will kindle with health, and our eyes sparkle with 
delight, in the pure blue ether. We shall sail about in 
the wicker car, reposing and dreaming among the white 
glittering clouds. How delightful the thought, particularly 
in dog-days ! But the gentleman with the horn-bowed 
spectacles, whom we must respect for his wisdom, tliougli 
we hate him for his scowling face, insists that the striped 
balloon is as full of gas as the white one. He farther- 
more saith that the constitution of man is that of a ter- 
restial, and not of a celestial, being — ^he having so great a 
weight of mortality ; and that all the enthusiastic and 
poetical aeronauts who have gone up in the striped bal- 
loons — and they have been ever going up since the time 
of Babel — have been unable to remain aloft; and have 
got a ducking among the sharks, or a tumble down a 
chimney, in the end. It appears, therefore, on the wliole 
that there will be more wisdom in our remaining content 
with terra jirma, doing what we can to fill up the bogs 
which exhale miasmas^ and planting beds of flowers m 
their place. 
3 t 



26 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

Ill addition to these balloons, are others of smaller size, 
both in morals and in politics, too numerous to mention. 

In the literary world, the sky is literally clouded with 
balloons — paper balloons, mostly. It is astonishing where 
all the colored paper and the gas come from, which are 
used in the manufacture of the balloons, which go up in 
the form of the ephemeral productions of the present 
day ; in other words, in the poetry and tales of the maga- 
zines, and in the novels and noveletts of popular writers. 
Red paper, blown up with gas — yellow paper, blown up with 
gas; but the reader, I fear, will say that I am satirizing 
the article on " Balloons, and Ballooning" itself, and which 
is certainly very far from my intention. 

We will let our friend, the crabbed gentleman, mor- 
alize a bit, in conclusion : 

" All this Ballooning does more honor to the hearts of 
tiie people than to their heads. The men and women are 
all blowing up soap bubbles in the sun like children. 
This is a delightful occupation no doubt; but is it a fit- 
ting one for men and women 1 Will it hew down the 
forests, and rear up the yellow harvests 1 Will it make 
the 'wilderness' of human life, in which howl the wild 
beasts of Appetite and Crime, and hoot the blind owls of 
Superstition and Prejudice, to ' blossom like the rose' 
and ring with tlie melody of song-birds ? Will it carve 
out the new-heavens and the new-earth? Will it accom- 
plish the great object of life ? Shame on the men and 
women, then, for thus behaving like children. Let them 
throw aside their balloons, and take— the plough and the 
needle !" 



S U X-R ISEPAPERS. 21 

A DAY ON LAKE ERIE. 

Upon a bright morning in July, I found myself at 
Buftalo, on board one of the noble Steamboats which ply 
upon Lake Erie, bound for Cleveland. Our boat expe- 
rienced no little difficulty in getting out of the harbor, 
from the j.a.m of steam and sail vessels and canal boats 
with which it was filled; and all of which were discharg- 
ing, or receiving, avalanches of the rich merchandise of 
the East, or of the richer products of the West. Having 
got out, however, in the course of half an hour, the great 
wheels of cur boat commenced their revolutions, and a 
thousand sea-horses, harnessed in her van, could not have 
borne her over the shining waters with more speed and 
majesty. " What a delicious breeze !" exclaimed every 
one, as the pure cool wind came to us across the broad 
bosom of the Lake. Every cheek kindled in its freshness, 
and every heart thanked God for the blessing. 

Buffalo presents a very beautiful appearance from the 
Lake; and as we looked back from the hurricane deck 
upon its glittering domes, and the roar of its commerce 
came out upon our ears, our mind naturally reverted to the 
rapidity of its growth. It is but little more than a quarter 
of a century since the spot where this city stands, and 
indeed nearly the whole extent of the shore of Lake Erie, 
was a barren wilderness. But the hardy spirit of American 
enterprise has thus soon converted this scene of barbarity 
and desolation into one of civilization and beauty. The 
glowing lines of Campbell, extravagant as they were prob- 
ably regarded at the time they were written, have been 
realized in spirit beyond the wildest dreams of his own 
imagination : 



■^8 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

"On Erie's banks, where tigers steal along, 
And the dread Indian chants a dismal song, 
Where liuman fiends on midnight errands walk, 
And batiie in brains the murderous tomahawk..; 
There shall the flocks on thimy pastures stray, 
And shepherds dance at Summer's opening day; 
Eat-h wondering genius of the lonely glen 
Shall start to view the glittering liaunts of men; 
And Silence watch on woodland heights around, 
The village curfew, as it tolls profound," 

The present population of ButTalo is not far from thirty 
thousand. The place, it will be remembered, has entirely 
grown up since the year 1816, when it was laid in ashes, 
witli the exception of a single house, by a detachment 
of British troops, which crossed the Niagara river at Black 
Rock, three miles below, in retaliation for some devasta- 
tions of tlie American army on the Canadian frontier. 
The city is handsomely laid out, and several of its streets, 
from the number of shade trees which have been planted 
in front of the neat dwellings on either side, present in 
the summer an appearance of great rural beauty and 
taste. Main Street, the principal avenue of business, is 
one of the noblest streets in tlie Union, being imusually 
wide, and extending with a gradual ascent from the harbor 
back in a direct line for tlie distance of about two miles. 
Several blocks of stores along this street have lime-stone 
fronts, and are of imposing size. Buffalo is indebted for 
them, as well as for many other of its best buildings, to 
tlie enterprise of Benjamin Rathbun, who has figured so 
conspicuously in the history of tliis city. The principal 
Hotels are among the largest and best conducted establish- 
jnents of the kind in the Union. 

The " Queen City of tlie Lakes," as tlie good people 



S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 29 

'of Buffalo delight to call their beautiful city, is not more 
celebrated for the importance of its situation and the 
extent of its commerce, than for its heavy and destructive 
gales of wind. It is one of the roughest places m the 
world. The terrific gale of December 1844, which was 
accompanied by such an appalling destruction of human 
life, will long be remembered. Chimneys and houses in 
all directions were blown down; large frame buildings lifted 
from their foundations; steam and canal boats torn from 
their moorings and dashed in pieces ; and the whole lower 
part of the city was completely submerged with water, 
from the fury of the gale. As we came out of the harbor, 
I noticed a number of men still engaged in repairing the 
stone pier, which, from its thickness, would have bid defi- 
ance to the battering rams of antiquity, but was unable to 
stand the mighty charge of the billows. Rocks were torn 
from it three or four tons in weight. A "Buffalo zephyr,"" 
is no joke. The delightful breezes, however, which the 
people of this city enjoy from the Lake, during the Summer 
months, are some compensation for the heavy gales with 
which they are visited at other seasons of the year. Per- 
sons, it may be added, who are in any degree predisposed 
to pulmonary complaints, should never think of Buffalo as 
a place of residence, as the winds coming from so large 
a body of fresh water, are extremely trying to the lungs; 
a remark which is also applicable to a greater or less 
extent to the whole Lake region. 

The business of Buffalo is well known to be chiefly 
commercial. Situated at the lower extremity of the great 
chain of western Lakes, and at the head of that noble 
monument of the genius of De Witt Clinton, the Erie 
Canal, this city is the wide gateway through which passes 



30 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

and pays toll nearly all the travel, the produce, and the mer 
chandise of the Eastern and Western sections of the Union. 
north of the Ohio river. It is doubtless destined, from 
its favorable situation, to become at some future day one 
of the largest cities in the Union; and is at present grow- 
ing very rapidly, having arisen with fresh energy from the 
paralysis of the speculations of 1837. While the Lake 
is in a navigable condition, its streets present a scene of 
the greatest activity. The rattling of drays, the puffing 
of steamboats, the creaking of cordage, and the crash of 
martial music on the leviathan steamers as they arrive 
or take their departure, all combine to send up an incessant 
peal of glorious thunder. In the winter, navigation being 
suspended, but little business is transacted; and the good 
^jeople spend their time in parties of pleasure, or improve 
it by their own firesides in the noble duty of self-culture, 
as their tastes may lead them. 

A trip up Lake Erie, on a bright summer day, is- 
delightful. On your left is a long bank of the richest 
verdure, composed of mingled grass and foliage ; and on 
your right an unbounded expanse of water, not unlike the 
ocean. Over your head is a sky as softly blue as that of 
Italy, and there is another of equal loveliness in the 
bosom of the shining waters beneath your feet. You 
seem to be in the centre of a vast concave of Paradise. 
The wheels of our steamboat, at every revolution, struck 
from the Lake into the sunshine thousands of what a 
miser would contemptuously term bubbles, but what a 
poet would indignantly persist in calling diamonds — dia- 
monds of the purest water. Add to this some eight or 
ten sail-vessels in sight, with their great white wings 
outspread upon the breeze, and the noble steamboat In- 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 31 

diana — one of the finest steamboats in the world — 
trailing the sky with smoke, as she rushed on her passage 
for Chicago, nearly through the centre of the Lake, at 
a distance of ten or twelve miles from our own. 

In passing Silver Creek, the scene of the fearful burn- 
ing of the steamboat Erie was pointed out to us — a calam- 
ity the thought of which still blanches the cheek. Who 
can paint the terrors of that awful night! the boat in 
flames amid the wild waters, with three hundred human 
souls on board — the sky and the Lake lit up with the 
terrific glare — the noble helmsman standing at his post 
enveloped in flames — the man upon the top of the gallows- 
frame with the fire rolling and roaring below and spouting 
up all around him — the agonizing cries of the sufferers 
in the water ! May God in his mercy grant that our coun- 
try may never be called upon to weep over such another 
awful calamity. 

I had but a few days before visited the grave-yard, 
in Buffalo, in which the bodies that were recovered had 
been interred. The grass had become green upon the 
graves ; but when will the wounded hearts of thousands, 
which were pierced by that dreadful calamity, be healed. 
A large number of the sufferers, it will be remembered, 
were emigrants ; and I noticed in the yard several Ger- 
man women kneeling by the graves with their crucifix. 
The scene was one at which a manly cheek might not 
blush to be dewed with a tear of sympathy, as well as 
one of the highest moral beauty. They had been left 
widows in a strange land. 

The large and flourishing village of Erie is situated 
in Pennsylvania, ninety miles above Buflfalo. As our boat 
made a stop of an hour or two at this village, I took a 



32 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

ramble on shore. The population of this village is about 
three thousand There is a spacious square in the centre 
of the town, which, with proper cultivation, would become 
a great ornament to the place. The bank upon which 
the village stands is about two hundred feet, I should 
judge, above the level of the lake. Many of the stores 
and dwellings are built of brick, and there are several 
edifices, which from their size and architecture, would be 
highly creditable to our seaboard cities. Among these, 
the most conspicuous are the U. S. Branch Bank, and 
the Reed House, The former is built of a beautiful white 
marble, and cost upwards of one hundred thousand dollars. 

There are two large foundries at Erie, the most ex- 
tensive of which has in constant employment about two 
hundred men. It has a blast furnace, yielding some eight 
hundred tons of soft grey iron per annum, the ore of 
which is found in the vicinity. The company also use 
from one hundred and fifty to two Imndred tons of harder 
metal obtained from the interior of Pennsylvania. The 
other furnace employs about forty men, and uses upwards 
of five hundred tons of iron per annum. It has also a 
large and excellent lathe for manufacturing machinery. 

The steam frigate Michigan — the only vessel of war 
of any note upon the upper Lakes — was lying in the 
harbor at Erie. She is a fine-looking craft, evidently mod- 
died both wnth a view to speed and durability. She is 
about five hundred tons burden. Her length is one hun- 
dred and fifty-six feet keel, and one hundred and sixty- 
seven and a half on deck: width, twenty-seven feet; 
depth of hole, twelve feet. Her engine is one hundred 
and sixty horse power. She is pierced for ten guns, but 
mounts at present only six — four twenty-two and two sixty- 



S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 



33 



eight pounders. Her complement of men is one hundred 
and twenty-five. The Iron of which she is constructed: 
is three eighths of an inch thick. It is not supposed, of 
course, tliat this will stand a cannon shot: neither will 
the sides of an ordinary frigate. But an iron vessel has 
the advantage in action, over one constructed of wood, that 
there are no splinters from the effects of the shots; whicli 
usually do more damage than the shots themselves. 

Gen. Wayne, who died in 1796, while returning from 
the scene of his brilliant victory in the West, which he 
had affain visited, on duties connected with his office as 
sole Commissioner for treating with the North-Western In- 
dians, was originally buried, it will be remembered, at 
Erie; and it was with feelings of gratitude and pride, that 
I visited the spot — near the log-house fort, a short distance 
below the village — where his ashes were deposited. There 
is not a true American heart in the land that does not 
cherish with reverence and admiration the memory of 
" mad Anthony Wayne.*' His celebrated assault upon 
Stony Point was one of the most brilliant victories of tlie 
Revolutionary war; and in point of impetuous and daring 
courage, proves him to be entitled to rank with the Hero 
of Lodi. In this assault, Wayne was struck on the head 
with a musket ball, and fell; but immediately rising upon 
one knee, he heroically exclaimed, " March on, carry me 
into the Fort ; for, should the wound prove mortal, I will 
die at the head of the column." His victory over the 
Miami and Wabash Indians, in 1794, reflected the highest 
lustre upon his courage and skill as a General, and was 
productive of the most important advantages to the country; 
not only putting an end to a bloody and brutal war, but 
throwing open the fine region of the West to a civilized 
4 



34 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

population, and restoring the confidence of t]ie people at 
home, in the Executive branch of the Government, which 
had been very much shaken by the disastrous issue of two 
previous campaigns against these Indians. His remains, 
which were temporarily buiied' at Erie, were removed by 
his son, in 1809, to the csmetry of St. David's church, 
Chester county Pennsylvania, where a monument was raised 
to his memory, by his comrades of the Revolution. 

A little incident, which occurred during his expedition 
against the tribes of Indians mentioned above, as it is char- 
acteristic of Wayne, and furnishes a beautiful scene of 
the triumph of female sympathy, may not be unworthy of 
relating. 

Two or tju'ee soldiers had been sentenced to suffer 
death for desertion; the troops were paraded to witness 
punishment; tlie unhappy men were already kneeling in 
their grave clothes by their coffins, and the file of soldiers 
which had been selected for their execution were await- 
ing the signal to fire, when the wife of one the staff officers 
— a lady of great beauty and accomplishments — appeared, 
to intercede for their pardon. 

"You surely will pardon the men, General; you will 
not execute them?" 

" Away, woman — away! you have no business here." 

'"Spare their lives, I beseech you — spare their lives;" 
and throwing herself upon her knees before the stern and 
passionate soldier, she did not cease her importunities, 
until her tears had prevailed upon him to grant her petition. 

"I pardon the men," said Wayne; "but," he contin- 
ued, with his usual bluntness, " don't you ever let me see 
you here again, madam; the field is no place for a woman." 

The poor fellows whose lives were thus saved through 



S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 35 

t\ie iiitercession of the lady, afterwards showed their grat- 
itude by exemplary conduct and bravery through the cam- 
paign. 

One of the most magnificent spectacles that I have ever 
seen is a sunset, on a clear day, upon one of the great 
western Lakes. I doubt if an ocean sunset is more gorge- 
ous. The whole surface of the Lake in the west, glows 
and burns in the rays of the descending orb, while the 
clouds above, have the appearance of being all in flames. 
Afar in the distance, perhaps, will be seen a vessel with 
her sails flapping in the breeze, and glowing like sheets 
of fire. "Beautiful! magnificent! if tJiis is earth, what 
must heaven be!" are the exclamations which involuntarily 
hurst from the lips of the enraptured beholder. 

A most beautiful optical illusion adds not a little to 
the enchantment of the scene. Gazing steadily upon the 
sun, a few moments, such an impression of its form is 
made upon the retina of the eye, that the whole surface 
of the w^ater, looking towards the west, appears to be 
covered with blue globules, going up and fading, singly 
and in clusters. 

But if sunset is beautiful, evening, with her million of 
soft, loving eyes, gazing down into the waters, which with 
an equal number return the gaze, while they shine like 
silver in the moonlight, is still more so. I walked the hur- 
ricane deck, admiring the scene, until long after the voice 
of revelry in the cabin was hushed. 

About 12 o'clock the sky became overcast with clouds, 
indicating an approaching storm. The moon and the stars 
were all extinguished, and the vast vault of heaven was 
filled with black darkness. How sublime ! how man feels 
his nothingness at such a time ! Our boat, as she plunged 



36 SU^-RISE PAPERS. 

and bellowed on her way through the darkness, spouting 
?!moke and flame, reminded me of the flight of Milton's 
Satan through chaos. 

I went down below, at length, and "turned in;" and 
in the morning at six o'clock, I found myself lying at the 
wharf of the beautiful city of Cleveland; our boat seem- 
ingly panting from her long journey, as she blew out the 
steam from her fiery lungs. 



ANECDOTE OF DRESS. 

Several years since I had occasion to visit the Navy 
Yard, at Charlestown, Mass., of which Com. Elliott was 
then Commandant. Having obtained permission from the 
crabbed old gentleman at the gate to pass the sentry, 1 
rambled round the yard, gazing, with the admiration of 
•' a young man from the country," upon the mighty ships 
of war — Neptune's sons of thunder — and wondering at 
the huge stacks of balls and the long parks of cannon. 
But the principal object of my visit was to procure, for 
;i cane, a piece of the almighty oak of " Old Ironsides;" 
this noble ship being then undergoing a rC'Construction 
in the beautiful dry-dock, in this yard. And having ob- 
tained, after considerable difliculty, a splinter from one 
of her huge ribs — which, by tlie way, proved as suitable 
for the manufacture of a handsome cane, as did that of 
Adam for a beautiful woman— it was necessary to call 
on the Commodore, in order to get " a pass," to carry it 
l^y the aforesaid crabbed old gentleman at the gate,, 



STJN-RISE PAPERSc 37 

As I approached the office, with palpitating heart, my 
untaught imagination was busy in painting the personal 
appearance of a Commodore in the American Navy — the 
commander of a fleet of the mighty ships I saw around 
me. I expected to find the Commandant of the yard 
a very consequential looking and consequential feeling 
gentleman, in a splendid naval uniform. Such was the 
idea I had formed of one of the plainest and most re- 
nowned men in the American Navy; and all because he 
was a Commodore. 

Upon inquiring for the Commodore, at his office, I 
was informed that he was taking a stroll round the yard, 
but would be back presently. The cool fresh breeze was 
sweeping in from the ocean, and I took my seat at a 
window, which commanded a full view of one of the most 
beautiful harbors in the world, to await his return — a 
harbor from whose forest of masts, the flags of nearly 
every nation on the globe were waving upon the breeze 
There, glittering in the same sun of peace, was the 
" meteor' of England, the " tri-colored flag^' of France, 
tlie " two eagles" of Russia, the red and yellow ensign of 
Spain ; and the flag whose stars and stripes were " torn" 
from the diamond-studded robes of night and the crimson 
drapery of morning. 

While I was looking out upon this beautiful and stirring 
spectacle — the glory of the nineteenth century — I saw 
an officer approaching, who, I thought, was dressed quite 
gorgeously enough to be a Commodore ; and who had, 
withal, such a pomposity in his stride, that he must be 
conscious that Fame ever went before him, proclaiming to 
the world through her silver trumpet, " This man shares 
with the immortal Perry the laurels of the victory upon 
4 t 



38 S U N-R ISE PAPER Sv 

Lake Erie ! Let the earth grow greener before his foot- 
steps!" But, much to my disappointment, this mighty 
personage proved to be a Lieutenant of Marines! 

He was presently followed, however, by a corpulent 
old gentleman, in a threadbare naval coat, minus half its 
anchor-buttons, and who proved to be the Commodore. 
He readily gave me permission to take from the yard the 
piece of wood which I desired ; and this little incident, 
Simple as it may seem, taught me, thus early in life, a 
moral, the truth of which has often been proved by sub- 
sequent observation : — Never form an opinion of strangers 
from the fashion of their coat. Persons, who are conscious 
of possessing qualities which must secure to them the 
respect of the community, are not usually over and above 
fastidcous about their dress. It is left for those to strut the 
fop, who owe the contemptible admiration which is bestowed 
upoir them by children and fools, to the brilliancy of their 
])lumage. 



THE WOLVES. 



The grizzly wolves of Famine liowl^ 
Incessantly, for human blood; 

And in the winter snows they prowl, 
Outflocking from the gloomy wood. 

At midnight, when the bitter North, 
Upon the hamlet pours its hail. 

They gather round the hut of sloth. 
And fierce the shattered door assail. 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 39 

Tlie wakened father sees their eyes 

Glare on his children through the door; 

To keep them out too late he tries — 
Tliey slake their thirst in human gore I 

By her cold hearth the widow hears 

Their famished yell amid the night; 
And, bowing o'er her babes in tears, 

She prays for morning's blessed light. 

The horrid wolves! their mouths all red 
With blood that flowed in human veins'. 

By Death upon his pale horse led. 

They scour for prey the frozen plains! 

The thousand wolves! when Tempest blows 
Howl louder than his fiends that pack; 

God pity him who, chilled mid snows, 
Shall hear them yelling on his track! 



SONGc 

Sighs my heart, and sigheth ever, 
For a star of blessed lig'ht. 

As my bark adown life's river. 
Glides amid the lonely night. 

Deep around me darkness lying, 
Float I cheerless down the stream, 

Sighing, sighing, ever sighing, 
For the star of holy beam. 

When my star the night shall sever. 
Beaming on my gladdened eyes. 

Then shall glow with light the river. 
Shine with glory all the skies. 



40 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

Then my bark shall glide with singing, 
In the never-fading beam; 

All the green hills round it ringing, 
Down the silver-glowing stream. 



OUR NAVAL VICTORIES IN THE LAST WAR. 

The splendid achievements of our little Navy in the 
last war with England, covered the country with a blaze 
of unfading glory, and gave to this branch of the service 
the first place in the hearts of the people. The victories 
which it won were as unexpected as they were brilliant — 
as humiliating to England, as they were glorious to the 
Republican Union. But it strikes me, nevertheless, as 
being a great error, to attribute the advantage which our 
ships almost invariably gained over those of the enemy, 
to any essential superiority on the part of our sailors ; there 
is certainly no proof that such a superiority existed. Braver 
men, or better seamen, never trod the deck of a ship, 
than were then, and are now, to be found in the British 
navy. John Bull has a fiery eye, and a big curly neck, 
and he knows nothing of fear. Whoever shakes the red 
cloak at him, though his spear be as long as that of 
Goliath, must look out for his iron horns. Our success 
was probably owing, in a large measure, to attendant cir- 
cumstances, many of which were decidedly in our favor. 

In the first place, the cause of the war, on the part 
of the English — to perpetuate the abominable system of 
impressment, which they had so extensively practiced — 
was calculated to dampen the ardor of their sailors in its 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 41 

prosecution. They were fighting to sustain one of the 
most cruel and accursed usurpations over human rights, 
which unprincipled ambition ever dictated to a tyrant — 
a usurpation, too, the evil of which was confined chiefly 
to their own profession, and whose iron hoof many of them 
had felt upon their own breasts. It would be a libel upon 
human nature to assert that they could have gone into 
battle, under these circumstances, with as much ardor as 
American sailors, who were fighting against this abominable 
usurpation, and for the freedom of the seas. 

Again : The English went into battle, particularly at 
the beginning of the war, confident of victory. They had 
never found their match upon the ocean, and they supposed 
themselves invincible in a naval conflict. It was their 
boast that one of their frigates was more than a match 
for two ships of equal size, of any other nation. This 
confidence in their superiority was not calculated, to say 
the least of it, to make them more wary and energetic, in 
the commencement of an engagement — while the Ameri- 
cans went into action with greater caution and vigor, from 
a knowledge of the bravery and skill of the foe with whom 
they had to contend. 

Lastly: The discipline on board our ships was probably 
better. The confidence of the English in their superiority 
had made them somewhat negligent in this matter, while 
the highest discipline, from opposite considerations, was 
attained on board of our ships. In the battle between the 
Constitution and the Guerriere, so rapidly did " Old 
Ironsides" pay over her Decatur's tribute, from the supe- 
rior enthusiasm and discipline of her crew, that she was 
enveloped in a complete sheet of flame, and her enemy 
often took her to be on fire. 



42 



S U rs-E ISE PAPERS. 



This acknowledgment of the bravery of British sailors, 
is due to candor; and does not detract one particle from 
the brilliancy of our naval achievements, but rather adds 
to it additional lustre; for the braver the foe, the more 
glorious the victory. If we should ever meet the English 
again in conflict upon the ocean, it might be under cir- 
cumstances of greater equality; though so long as their 
ships bear a flag which waves over a down-trodden and 
starving population, and ours continues to be what it now 
is, the 

" Flag of the free-hearfs only home,'' 

we must ever possess an advantage over them, which, I 
with equal armament and seamanship, cannot fail to give 
us the victory in seven cases out of ten. William Wal- 
lace, whose claymore did such execution upon the ranks 
of tyranny, was a feeeman. 



THE VILLAGE PREACHER. 



THE CRUCIFIXIOxN. 



The Crucifixion presented the most awful, the most 
terrific scene, that has ever been enacted, either upon 
earth, in heaven, or in hell; or that ever will be enacted, 
till the coming of the day of God's wrath, when the hea- 
vens shall be wrapped together as a scroll, and the wicked 
shall call upon the rocks and the mountains to fall upon 
them, and hide them from the face of Him whom they 
Jiave buffeted and pierced. All other scenes, indeed, 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 43 

recorded either in sacred or profane history, or that have 
9ver entered into the imaginations of men, sink into in- 
significance, when compared with the blasphemy and the 
terror of Calvary. 

The Son of God ! w]io was equal with the Father, 
md before whom angels bowed and seraphims veiled their 
faces — the Son of God! who, when man had brought 
upon himself the curse of the law, and there was no eye 
to pity and no arm to save, in the lustre of his amazing 
compassion, left the courts of his exaltation, came into the 
world, and became flesh, that he might open a way of 
salvation, by the ignominious death of the cross — the Son 
DF God ! who had spent the years of his sojourn in the 
world in poverty and self-denial, in meekness and humility, 
in preaching his gospel from city to city, and village to 
I'illage, in comforting the afflicted and in healing the 
sick — the Son of God ! with all the effulgence of his 
Divine nature and of his Divine life beaming around his 
bead, betrayed into the hands of sinners, forsaken by his 
disciples, condemned and scourged by Pilate, clothed in a 
purple robe in derision, beaten vv^ith reeds, and buffeted, 
and mocked, and spit upon by those whom he had con- 
ducted from the bondage of Egypt through the sea, and 
over whose hardness of heart he had wept upon JVIt. Olivet 
— was led away in the agony of his soul to die the shame- 
ful death of a malefactor ! 

With sorrowful hearts and ashes upon our heads, let 
us stand upon Golgotha, afar olT from the crucifying and 
scoffing mob, with Mary and the rest of the weeping little 
group, who had followed Jesus from Galilee, ministering 
to his wants, and behold in the awful scene the depth of 
the riches of the love of God, tho depravity of the human 



44 S U N-R I S E PAPERS* 

heart, and the price of anguish witli which we Iiave been 
purchased. 

It is about the third hour — about nine oVlock in the 
morning — and a great multitude, thirsting for the innocent 
blood, and composed of all ages and conditions, is ascend- 
ing the hill of Calvary. The meek and lowly Jesus, who 
has been found guiltless of any fault, is fainting beneath 
the weight of his cross amid butietings and revilings, yet 
he utters not a word in reproach, for " He was led like 
a sheep to the slaughter; and like a lamb dumb before 
its shearers, so he opened not his mouth." A few minutes 
later — and the ferocious soldiers have driven the ragged 
spikes through his hands and his feet, and he hangs ex- 
tended upon the accursed tree between the two thieves, 
the one on his right hand and the other on his left. The 
crown of thornes is upon his head, and the bloody sweat 
has again gathered upon his brow. His heavenly face, 
which has ever beamed with compassion upon suffering, 
is rent with unutterable anguish. He is left to tread the 
wine-press alone ; his disciples have all forsaken him ; 
even Peter, so resolute and confident a few hours ago. 
has denied him thrice ; and John, who leaned upon his 
master's bosom at supper, stands afar off, weeping. The 
Father has withdrawn from him the light of his counte- 
nance ; God spares not his own Son ; and amid the dark- 
ness which enshrouds the heavens, roll and crash the 
thunders of the broken law, and pierce his spirit with all 
the iiery pains of the damned. The cup of bitterness that 
is at his lips, the taste of which gave him such agony in 
Gethsemane, and which he must drain to the dregs, has 
been dipped from the wormwood caldrons of hell. The 
eartli, penetrated by the awful sufterings of her incarnate 



S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 45 

Creator, quakes to her centre — the rocks burst in pieces — 
the dead awake from their slumbers, and come out of 
their graves! The congregated angels, gazing down in 
amazement over the battlements of heaven, as they behold 
the agonies of him at whose feet they have so often cast 
their crowns, bow their heads upon their bosoms, and 
weep. The congregated devils, scowling out through the 
sulpherous caverns of the pit, and supposing that the last 
hope of man will be destroyed in the death of the 
"second Adam," arc impatiently waiting for him to ex- 
pire,* that they may send up an infernal shout of triumph, 
which shall echo upon the ears of the weeping angels. But 
there is a scene of blasphemy around the cross itself which 
was never surpassed in the pit. The soldiers, in their 
accursed avarice, with the sun darkened over their heads, 
\vith all Nature trembling around them, and the risen 
dead looking upon them in their shrouds from the surround- 
ing hills, are casting lots for the raiment of the Son of 
God ! the priests and the pharisees, wearing the robes of 
religion and the philacteries of piety, are reviling him 
and bending unto him the knee in mockery. Even the 
theives, that are crucified with him, forget their own suf- 
ferings, in the depravity of human nature, and unite in the 
derisions. He says, " I thirst," and a sponge dipped in 
vinegar and gall is held to his lips ! 

In the midst of this awful suffering and this terrific 
insult, Jesus lifis up his eyes to heaven. Is it to command 
the twelve leg-ons of angels, who await his word upon 
yonder cloud, to unsheath their swords upon that infuriated 
and remorseless mob? Is it to command the crater of 
hell to be again blown opan, and the lava-tempests of lire 

* Christmas Evans. 

5 



46 s u N-R I s E r A p p: R s. 

and brimstone, which overwhelmed the cities of the plain* 
to be now hurled upon God-insulting and God-crucifying 
Jerusalem? Is it to command the Bow of Promise to be 
blotted from the sky, and the torrents of the deluge to be 
again let locse upon a world, which, from the manger in 
the stable to the cross upon Golgotha, has persecuted him. 
and cried, " Crucify him, crucify him — though he be 
innocent, yet he shall die ?" Is it to direct the angel 
to descend with his trump, and swear by Him that liveth 
forever and ever, that time shall be no longer? Christian ! 
approach, that you may learn from the example of your 
Master, how to suffer, how to forgive, how to die. Sinner! 
draw near, that your heart of stone may be made flesh — 
that you may no longer be ashamed to take up the cross. 
Behold that heavenly face, convulsed with agony, yet 
beaming with love and compassion ! listen to that musical 
voice, choked with suffering, yet silvery with the accents 
of prayer : " Father, forgive them, for tJiey know not 
what they doy O, what a petition ! the eyes of Gabriel 
himself were dazzled by its divine moral lustre. Put otf 
the shoes from off your feet, ye blaspheming priests and 
pharisees ! the spot whereon ye stand is holy ground ! 
the burning bush is before you ! tlieawful schechinah beams 
over the mercy seat of the ignominious cross ! the efful- 
gence of heaven is upon the place of skulls ! God, in 
the beginning, said. Let there be light : and dropped 
a jewel from his scepter for a sun : — the sky smiled w^ith 
its azure blue — the white clouds, the chariots of the 
angels, glittered upon its surface — the hills were clothed 
with verdure — the groves were decorated with blossoms 
and rang with song — the crystal waters mirrored the love- 
liness of the earth and the sky — there was light! The 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 47 

same voice said amid the deeper darkness of Calvary, 
'''Father forgive them''' — and the ignominious cross, and 
the black heavens and the black earth, were baptized in a 
moral glory brighter than the lustre of all the suns which 
illuminate the universe. Satan and his exulting hosts 
turned pale with terror in its effulgence, and fled into 
blacker darkness. The angels caught it upon their flash- 
ing wings, and reflected it back over all the golden domes 
and the golden palaces of the New Jerusalem; and as 
those domes and those palaces kindled with a more in- 
tense brightness in its radiance, a voice broke from the 
cloud which veils tlie throne of the Eternal, again pro- 
claiming, " This is my beloved Son, in ichofn I am loell 
pleased^ The little church, weeping afar off on Calvary, 
were comforted, and confirmed in their faith. The dying 
thief doubted and reviled no longer, but turning his peni- 
tent eyes upon his crucified Redeemer, he cried, " Lord, 
remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." Infi- 
del ! can you longer revile 1 Can you longer doubt the 
existence of a God ! — a God in the person of him who 
uttered that petition 1 Arian ! can you longer deny the 
Divine nature of Christ? '''Father, forgive themP'' Neither 
man, nor prophet, nor angel, could have offered up such 
a prayer for his scoffing enemies in the midst of such suf- 
fering and such abuse. God is love: Christ was love; 
and as he spoke as never man spoke, so he died as never 
man died. God was in his teachings — God was in his 
miracles — God was in his life — God was in his death. 

"Jesus, when he had received the vinegar, he said, It 
is finished; and he bowed his head and gave up the ghost."" 
Over these dying words of our Redeemer, let saints and 
S-Bgels shout their hallelujahs! It is finished! the scene 



48 S U N-R I S E PAPERS. 

of awful suffering and blasphemy is over — the law is 
satisfied — death is swallowed up in victory ! It is finished I 
the atonement, the atonement is made ! the Son of God 
has died for man ! And he shall sec of the travail of 
his soul and be satisfied; for the heathen shall be given 
to him for an inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the 
earth for his possession ! 



ANGELS. 

Ere the Son of God, Christ Jesus, 
Entered on his mission vast. 

Up he went into the desert, 

There to weep, and pray, and fast. 

Forty days he prayed and fasted, 
Forty nights he sadly wept; 

And it came to pass he hungered, 
When the time of fast was kept. 

Then the Tempter came to tempt him. 
And in artful words he said, 

"If thou be the Christ, why hunger? 
Change these desert stones to bread!'' 

Jesus looked upon him sternly, 
Satan trembled at his frown; 

"It is written," quotli the Saviour, 
"God shall send his manna down. 

"Get behind me, daring Tempter! — 
He who lives by bread alone. 

Ne'er shall taste the marriage supper. 
Spread beside my Father's throne.'"' 



S U N-R I S E TAPER S. 

Satan, when the man, Christ Jesus, 
Thus he 'd tempted sore in vain, 

Back in rage returned to darkness, 
There to gnaw his burning chain. 

On the desert stood the Saviour, 
Tears fast flowing from his eyes, 

When, behold! above and round him, 
Shone the glory of the skies. 

Angels came on shining pinions 
From the realms of endless day — 

Came to bring ihe promised manna, 
And to wipe his tears away. 

O, liow bright their smiling faces. 

And their heavenly songs how sweet, 
As tliey cast their crowns immortal 
"At the lowly Saviour's feet! 

And again; when in the garden — 
Calv'rv's thunders rolling loud — 

'Neath the awful weight of anguish, 
Jesus' fainting spirit bowed; — 

When the bloody sweat did gather. 

As he knelt alone in prayer, 
Down from heaven there came an Angei, 



And again; when all was over — 
Jesus scourged and crucified — 

When the earth had ceased to tremble. 
Heaven to weep, and hell deride ; 

O'er the body, wrapped by Joseph 
With the many spices sweet. 

Came and watched two mighty Angels, 
Weeping by the pierced feet, 
5t 



49 



50 S U N-K ISE PAPERS. 

On the third day rose they early — 
Rose upon God's holy day — 

And in triumph, 'mid earth's quakings. 
Rolled the heavy stone away. 

Thus, O thus, around our pathway, 
Hover Angels smiling bright. 

When through strength by Jesus given, 
Tread we down tlie hosts of Night. 

And they feed our souls with manna^ 
And they wipe away our tears; 

And they whisper in the darkness, 

"As your strength shall be your years. 

And we know the mighty Watchers, 
At our risen Saviour's tomb, 

Down will go with us through Jordan, 
And escort our spirits home. 



CLOUDS. 

There are star-gazers and moon-gazers, and the proud 
bird of Freedom is a sun-gazer; but, for my own part, 1 
have ahvays had a passion for tJie clouds. In their different 
aspects they present more of beauty and magnificence thaji 
even the shining and hymning choirs of the constella- 
tions. 

Look up at the clouds on a bright day in June ! More 
magnificent tlian the giant Alps in their mantles of snow^ 
are those great white piles that tower, peak over peak, 
in the West. The ocean, the lakes, and the cataracti> 



S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 51 

were their sires. And those beautiful little cloudlets too, 
born of the dew of roses! — the winsjs of the anfjels are 
not more beautiful. How they sing as they float along 
in the sunbeams amid the heaven of blue ether! How 
tlie birds sing whilst they see them! 

And then, if you wish for a contrast, look up at the 
clouds upon some night, when they scowl with tempests, 
and have extinguished the stars, except here and there 
one, which still mildly shines amid the darkness, like the 
spirits of the good and the great, in an age of tumult and 
superstition. Driven by the wind, how angrily they rush 
across the scarcely perceptible disc of the moon. How 
sublime — how " wildly beautiful!" Anon comes a mighty 
rent in the black mass, like those which have been made 
in the rocks by earthquakes, and then how gloriously the 
Queen of Night pours down her beams, for a moment, over 
tlie jagged precipices, in a cataract of silver! Talk not 
of Niagara !■ — whoever has seen a cataract of light amid 
the black clouds, has seen a sublimer, a more beautiful, 
than Niagara! 

The clouds at sunrise or sunset !— away with your 
panoramas of burning mountains and of cities in conflagra- 
tion ! Here is a sky in flames! here are a thousand char- 
iots of fire, like that which bore the prophet from Mount 
Carmel to heaven ! To behold such a spectacle but for 
once, would be worth a lifetime of poverty and toil; and 
yet, although it may be freely seen every day, how many 
are there who never lift up their eyes from the clod to 
gaze upon it. When the sun rises, they continue to slum- 
ber, as if they would not " have enough of that in their 
graves!" when it sets, their vile scuffle for gain has not 
yet ended. 



52 S U N-R I S E PAPERS. 

If men would look away into the peaceful and mag- 
nificent chambers of the east, in the morning, and into 
those of the west, in the evening, and reflect that such 
will be the " mansions" which the Son of God has gone 
to "prepare" for the righteous, they would receive an 
impulse to virtue through the day, and be visited by 
sweet dreams through the night. 

The awful grandeur of the clouds, when they' have 
been marshalled by the " Storm King, " is beyond the 
power of human language to describe. Vast, black, and 
terrible, as the army of rebeling angels, they are gath- 
ered for battle upon the plains of ether. Who does not 
liear tlic roll of their million cliariots, and the tramp 
of their iron shod chargers, in the pealing thunder 1 — 
Who does not see their flaming banners and their flash- 
ing steels in the lightning'? Wo unto the cities, the aged 
pines, and the gnarled oaks upon which that host shall 
charge in vengeance! Joy unto the drooping flowers and 
tiie wilted herbage which they shall visit in mercy! 

Clouds are the draperies which hang about the Al- 
mighty's throne ; when He conversed with Moses upon 
Sinai, it was from the midst of a cloud; the Son of God 
after his crucifixion and resurrection ascended to heaven 
upon a cloud, and in the clouds will he be seen coming 
at last, surrounded by all his angels. 

Shall I not continue to gaze with admiration upon the 
clouds ? 



S U ]\'-R ISEPAPERS. 53 



THE LITERATURE OF SIGNS. 

A good natured writer rejoiced in the explosion of a 
steamboat's boilers, because a villainous piece of orthogra- 
phy, which was posted up in the shape of a handbill in the 
cabin — to wit : " iYo smoakiing aloud /icre," was thereby 
destroyed. Seeing there were '' no lives lost," the explo- 
sion teas a happy occurrence. And may the fate of the 
old ignoramus of a boat be a warning to blockheads in 
general. 

What a pity that we can't have a steamboat explosion 
in such of our streets as are disgraced by signs like the 
following : " Course Boots for Sail. J— B— ." " J. B." 
a politician and a stump orator in the bargain ! 

Errors in punctuation also are often seen upon signs, 
as ridiculous as those with which we meet in orthography ; 
a comma, or a semi-colon, being put after the initial letter 
of a christian name, or being used after an abbreviation, 
where a period is required. Such errors will sometimes 
find their way into the columns of a newspaper, or the 
pages of a book, in spite of all the care of the most 
experienced proof-reader; but upon signs, where they are 
the result purely of ignorance, they are a reproach to the 
civilization of the nineteenth century. 

The character of the signs which tradesmen and me- 
chanics place over their doors, furnish no mean clue to 
that of their owners. It is a matter in which every m.an 
usually consults his own taste, and gives directions to the 
painter; and hence we may obtain a very fair idea of the 
inhabitants of a village or city, by simply passing through 
its streets, and observing the signs. Handsome signs arc 



54 S U N-R ISE TAPERS. 

indicative of refined taste and enterprise. Boston is called 
the " Athens of America," and the " City of Notions ;" 
and the admiration which Mr. Dickens expressed for the 
beauty of its signs, is well known. 

A tradesman, who understands the world, will have 
none but a handsome sign over his door. It costs a little 
more, to be sure ; but then the advantage which he derives 
from it, repays him ten times over in the end ; for where 
does a stranger go to make his purchases, but to the 
finest sign he can see, — and where he may expect to find 
a well selected assortment and gentlemanly attendance ? 

In conclusion, I beg leave to present, verbatim et pmic- 
iuatim, the sign of a Thompsonian Doctor, alike as a speci- 
men of literature, and as one of the " signs of the times.''' 
It is to be found in a classical city in the empire State : 

" Mcdisines and, Groceries Variety Store rheumatic. 

medisine Salt rheum cured or. no. pay Dr. 

oflice. Boots and shues maid and repaired. Cigars can- 
dels, soap eggs crackers and pys." 

If your features are not more radiant now, dear reader. 
I'll give up that there's no virtue in " yarbs.'''' 



TWO DAYS AT NIAGARA. 

" Heavens ! what a spectacle ! what a poem ! tlie 
half was never told me !" — were the exclamations w^hicli 
burst from my lips, when, after a journey of nearly a thou- 
sand miles, I first beheld Niagara. I had already read 
many sublime chapters in the "Book of Nature;" but its 



S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 55 

Iliad was now before me. My ears were stunned by the 
thunder in which the leaves of the trees trembled for miles 
in circumference ; my cheek turned pale with terror, as 1 
looked down over the precipice into the awful gulf — '• the 
hell of waters ;" my eye sparkled with admiration and 
gratitude inexpressible, as I beheld the column of spray, 
glittering with rainbows and reaching to tlie clouds. 

"Spray, thunder, and the beauteous bow of love — 
Niagara, what art thou? — the robes — the voice — 
The smile of God!" 

Nearly every epithet in the language, expressive of 
beauty or magnificence, has been applied to Niagara; yet 
the Falls never have been, and tliey never can be, de- 
scribed. It is, indeed, the height of presumption to attempt 
a description of this most sublime of Nature's works. 
The reader must see Niagara for himself; he must behold 
the terrific rapids above, and the clear green waters below; 
lie must weep on the brink of the awful precipice. 

The visiter at the Falls should by all means go down 
to the Whirlpool, three miles below. In wild beauty and 
magnificence, it is scarcely inferior to the Cataract itself; 
though a more cultivated eye is necessary to appreciate 
it. The river, as if exhausted by its long and frightful 
race through the rapids, (which commence again about 
half a mile below the precipice,) seems to pause here 
for a moment, to regain its energies; and after having 
made two or three slow and majestic circles around this 
immense basin, it rushes out in a different direction, and 
again pours itself in one continual and impetuous sheet 
of rapids, till it reaches the end of the mountain gorge. 
at Lewiston, where it again becomes tranquil, and quietly 



66 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

falls, six miles below, into the bosom of Lake Ontario. 
Nothing can exceed the beauty and the grandeur of the 
majestic march of the clear green waters, which mirror 
tlie sky and the forest trees, as you stand upon the bank 
and look down, two hundred feet, into the Whirlpool basin. 

The view from Manitou Rock, at the edge of the 
water, about forty rods above the commencement of the 
Whirlpool, is, if passible, still more sublime and wildly 
beautiful. Standing upon the apex of this rock, which is 
near a hundred feet high, you may strain your vision to 
the utmost, and you shall not be able to discern a single 
indication that the foatsteps of mortal man, besides your 
own, ever approached this hallowed retreat of Nature. 
For once in your life, you have the inexpressible luxury 
of feeling yourself to be alone; while the eye dwells upon 
a scene, the sublimity of which almost petrifies the soul. 
Above, on comes the mighty river, thundering and foaming 
in its fury, and throwing on high its crested billows, in the 
exultation of its might; below is the great whirlpool, and 
still farther on, the rapids again. To cap the climax of the 
scene, there will be perhaps a grey eagle or two, soaring 
far into the blue ether over your head. A less supersti- 
tious people than the w^arlike Ircquois, might have fancied 
such a place to be the residence of Manitou, or the Great 
Spirit. The Catholic might here find " holy water," which 
had never been consecrated by the priest. A visit to this 
rock is attended with considerable difficulty, the shore of 
the river being covered with huge fragments of stone, which 
have fallen fiom the clift' above, though this detracts nothing 
from the rcmance of the excursion. 

The region about the Falls, according to the account 
of some cf the oldest ijihabitants, was formerly a most 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 57 

terrific place for rattlesnakes. A few years ago it was 
unsafe to go about without thick top boots and a heavy 
cane, as you would probably hear the rattling of several 
i^nakes close by you, in the course of half an hour's ramble. 
One eld gentleman — perhaps the reader will think his 
name wrs Sam Hyde — told me that he had seen them, 
on a sunny day, hanging over the cliffs on either side of 
the river, in knots of twenty or thirty, and rattling like a 
hail-storm. But however numerous these terrific reptiles 
may have been about the Falls, they have been almost 
entirely exterminated. One is killed, now and then, though 
very rarely. 

The old bark Detroit, the flag-ship of the British fleet, 
in the memorable battle of Lake Erie, now lies upon a 
rack amid the rapids., about half a mile above the precipice. 
This ship, after the close of the war, was employed in 
the merchant trade of the lakes, till the year 1841, when 
she was condemned as unseawortliy. The enthusiastic and 
poetical citizens of Buffalo then resolved that she should 
not be suffered to rot ingloriously in their docks, but that 
she should die a death worthy of her history. They de- 
termined to send her over the Cataract. Accordingly she 
was towed down to tlie commencement of the rapids, and 
there cut loose ; thousands of spectators being assembled 
on either bank of the river to witness the spectacle. In 
an instant she was within the grasp of the furious bil- 
lows ; and was hurled on with terrific rapidity towards the 
precipice, amid the shouts of the multitude, and the bowl- 
ings of two or three wild beasts that had been placed on 
board of her, till she struck, not unexpectedly to many, 
upon the rock where she now lies high and dry, and the 
thrilling excitement of the scene was over. One of the 
6 



58 SV r^-R ISE PAPERS. 

animals on board of her, a bear, jumped into the rapids, 
and succeeded in reaching the shore a few rods above the 
precipice. 

There was a bit of a joke in her failing to make the 
fearful plunge over the precipice, which had been antici- 
pated, from the circumstance that the indignant Whigs of 
the ''Queen City of the Lakes" had painted the word 
'' Veto," in large letters, upon her side, the second veto 
message of President Tyler having just arrived in that city. 
The enthusiastic anticipations of the spectators were all 
vetoed; and "His Accidency" was in worse odor than ever. 

The story of Francis Abbott, " the Hermit of the Falls."' 
is familiar to every one who has visited Niagara. This 
singular man is supposed to have been an English nobleman, 
who sought a solace for disappointed love, in the bosom- of 
solitude amid the stupendous works of nature ,• though 
nothing positive is known in relation to his history. He 
possessed a mind richly stored with the treasures of liter- 
ature, and a taste highly cultivated by reflection and travel. 
His reason appears to have been partially shattered. He 
wore a long scarlet silk robe ; and always carried his guitar 
with him, in his rambles from his cell ; which was upon 
one of the little islands, near the brink of the precipice. 
Much of his time was spent in the delightful pastime 
of literary composition, but his manuscripts were always 
destroyed, as soon as they were completed. Not a single 
one was ever read by any person beside himself He 
shunned the society and the notice of his fellow men; and 
it was his delight to hang for hours from a crag over the 
awful abyss of the precipice, with the angry waters boiling 
and roaring beneath his feet, and the rainbows glittering 
over his head. He at last fell a victim to his timerity in 



SUN-RISE PAPERS, 69 

bathing near the rapids below the Falls, of which he 
was daily in the practice. 

On the second day of my tarry at Niagara, I made an 
excursion to the battle ground of Lundy's Lane, three 
miles from Table Rock, on the Canada side. The ferry 
across the river is about thirty rods below the Falls, and 
you go down the American bank on a slight railway. 
The little skilf seems at times to be almost overpowered 
by the eddying waters; but your fears quickly vanish 
when you look at the brawny arm of the ferryman; and 
you are very soon safely landed in tlie dominions of " Her 
Most Gracious Majesty," having enjoyed a more over- 
whelming view of the Cataract, from the centre of the 
river, than can be obtained from any other point. 

Several companies of British troops are stationed at 
Drummondville, through which village you pass, on your 
way to the Battle Ground. The soldiers are, for the 
most part, stout hardy looking men,^worthy of the " beef 
and pudding" of Old England; and are, of course, in a high 
state of discipline. At the command '^Harder harms!'''' 
from a cockney major, on parade, the whole plain groaned 
beneath the simultaneous tread of musketry. The detri- 
ment which a town receives, in the corruption of its 
morals, by having a large detachment of soldiers quartered 
in it, is abundantly evident, from the innumerable number 
of little taverns in this village, all of which sell ardent 
spirits. 

The battle of Lundy's Lane, which was fought, in the 
summer of 1814, on the heights near Drummondville, is 
well known to have been one of the fiercest and best 
contested battles of the last war. The trees on the ground, 
scarred with buUets, spealj eloquently of the fury of the 



60 S V N-R ISE PAPERS. 

leaden storm. T]ie battle commenced a little before sun- 
down, and continued until past midnight. An old soldier 
who was in the Biitisli ranks in the action, used a quaint 
but graphic figure, in describing the fury with which it was 
began by Col. Scott; who being a mile or two in advance 
of the main body of the American army, with his regiment, 
and coming upon the enemy, immediately commenced an 
attack. It seems that there was a field of full grown rye 
upon the battle ground at the time, and that this, for some 
time, separated Scott's regiment from the British lines. 
" The bullets," said the person alluded to, " grazing the 
heads of the rye, gave it that peculiar appearance which 
fields of grain often present in mid-summer, when they are 
enlivened by millions of grass-hoppers springing from one 
straw to another. It was impossible to stand up before 
sucli a tempest of lead, and our regiment, who were 
most exposed, soon received orders to lie upon their 
faces.*' The battle ceased, as if by mutual consent, 
al)out midnight, both armies having fought with the most 
determined valor and suffered great loss. 

The field of conflict, the next morning, presented a 
scene truly illustrative of the horrors of war. Soldiers, 
horses, and trees, the dying and the dead, were all pro- 
miscuously mingled together. The American and the 
Briton lay side by side, with their bayonets plunged deep 
into each other's bosom ; for the English had met their 
equals in the use of their own boasted weapon; and they 
afterwards no longer taunted the republican army as being 
incapable of facing the charge of a battalion, wilh this 
terrible instrument of death. 

So hotly contested was this battle, that both parties 
claim to have had the advantage; the English, however. 



S V N-K ISE PAPERS. 



61 



^vlth little show of plausibility. Certain it is that they 
were so roughly handled that they did not choose to renew 
tiie conflict the next morning, notwithstanding they had 
received large reinforcements during the night. The 
Americans fell back, with all their baggage, and ordnance, 
except a single piece, which was accidentally left behind, 
to their encasnpment at Fort Erie ; the British following 
at a respectful distance, and making no attempt to molest 
them. The English claim the victory, on the ground that 
the American army retreated ; but this by no means proves 
that they were beaten in the engagemicnt : for they were 
in an enemy''s country, and although they had defeated 
him in this individual battle, as appears from the position 
of the two armies, when the action closed; still a retreat 
might have been absolutely demanded by prudence, from 
tlie reinforcements that the enemy was constantly receiv- 
ing, and from which resource they were altogether cut off'. 

A son of the traitor Hull, who was a captain in the 
American lines, died gloriously fighting for his country, in 
this action; having been placed, at his request, in the thick- 
est of tlie battle, that he might the better be able to make 
some atonement for the accursed treachery of his father, 
and wipe off" the infamy, which burned, like the mark of 
Cain, upon his name. He sleeps with his brave com- 
panions, and foos, who fell in the conflict, beneath the 
green turf of the field of battle. Requiescat in pace! 

The hour was so late, when I returned to the Falls, 
that I did not go under the sheet of water, at Table Rock, 
as I had intended. But I did not much regret losing the 
adventure, as I was told that it is accompanied by little 
satisfaction and considerable peril. 

TJie number of visiters to Niagara is constantly increas- 
6 t 



62 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

ing. There are now probably about one hundred arrivals 
daily at all the hotels, during the months of August and 
September; and among them nearly every nation in the 
world is represented. " I want to go to America for five 
reasons," said Lord Byron to one of our countrymen, dur- 
ing the illness which terminated in his death — "I want 
to see Irving; I want to see Niagara; I want to see the 
living form of classic Freedom ; I want to go to Washing- 
ton's grave ; and I w^ant your government to acknowledge 
dreece as an independent nation." 

Before leaving Niagara for Buffalo, in the morning cars, 
I went down to take a last look at the Cataract. The 
terrific plunge of the mighty river — the thunder — the 
spray — the rainbows — were all still there. What a spec- 
tacle ! what a Poem ! My heart has been full ever since. 



TO AN OCEAN CLIFF. 

WRITTEN ON THE BEACH. DURING A STORM. 

Proud cliff! that towerest on thine ocean throne, 
Calm and unmoved while fierce tlie tempest raves. 

And hurls its thunders on thy splintered head, 
I hail thee o'er the dark and angry waves! 

Ages have passed since first against thy form 

Thus wildly roared the billow and the storm. 

New England cliff! upon our Pilgrim shore, 
God placed thee thus 'mid storms and waves to tower, 

To teach a glorious lesson to our sires. 

And nerve their arm to brave the tyrant's power. 



S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 63 

Freedom was won I and Time's tempestuous main 
Shall 'gainst it roll its giant floods in vain. 

Emblem of Truth! though Boreas sweep the sky 
With more than Stygian whirlwinds, and on thee 

Lift angry billows like the mountains high, 
Still shalt thou tower, as now, in majesty! 

Eternal Truth! her rock shall stand sublime, 

When Error writhes upon the wreck of Time! 

Tower on, tower on, thou proud old ocean cliff, 
Triumphant o'er the billows and the storm! 

And may my soul be taught a lesson grand. 
While gazing now upon thy glorious form. 

Calm and unshaken may I stand like thee, 

When roar the waves of dark adversity! 



ON A GREEN VEIL, 

FOUND IN A FIELD. 

In the manner of the old English Poets. 

This veil unto a maiden fair, 

I ween did once belong; 
A maiden with soft, shining hair, 

And softer voice for song. 

E'en yet with her sweet maiden breath, 

'Tis sweeter than the gale. 
When Summer, through her lily teeth, 

Breathes fragrance o'er the dale. 

The maid was singing in the morn, 
Unto the rose-crowned Hours, 



64 S U N-R ISE PAPEE«. 

As they upon the grassy lawn 

Danced round her 'mong the flowers. 

The veil was bathed in sunbeams bright, 
Which sought her cheek the while; 

Yet shone it in a sunnier light, 
The maiden's sunny smile. 

Ah, what will do the maiden now? 

How hide her blushing cheek. 
When of a young and manly brow 

The village maidens speak ?- 

The sun with all too ardent rays 
Her rosy cheek will brown; 

And she at Passion's 'raptured gaze 
Can only blush and frown. 

Her smiles and frowns no more concealed- 

And she so many arts — 
The fate of all the town is sealed — 

She'll break our sighing hearts I 



THE VILLAGE ORATOR 



O R A T R y 



Oratory is the most noble of all arts, both from its pow- 
er and its intrinsic majesty. Raising and tossing, at will, 
the dormant passions of men into wild and tempestuous 
agitation, or calming them, with the same ease, into slum- 
bering beauty — it is the trident of Neptune extended 
over the sea. Uprooting prejudice, and winning its admi- 



S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 65 

ration and obeisance, infusing spiritual life into avarice^ 
and drawing after it communities and nations — it is the 
thrilling lyre of Orpheus, with the trees, and rocks, and 
hills, all following in its train. Rending the gnarled oaks 
of superstition and error, and bringing a just retribution 
upon crime, (for true oratory, like true poetry, must always 
have a great purpose,) it is the scathing bolt of Jupiter. 
How noble, how god-like does man appear in the practice 
of this sublime art, when he possesses it in the highest 
degree of perfection. 

How much has Oratory done for human liberty and 
human happiness ! Let the hnagination picture, for a 
moment, some of the scenes of its glorious triumphs. 
And for such scenes, we need not go, after the fashionable 
custom, to the Roman Senate, or to the Grecian Forum; 
modern times — the history of the American people — 
a people enthusiastic and ambitious in their nature, rocked 
in the cradle of war in their infancy, reared amid mighty 
rivers and gigantic mountains, and with an inextinguish- 
able love of freedom in their bosoms — the history of such 
a people will furnish abundant instances of the noblest 
triumphs of the art. 

Take a single scene from tlie sublime epoch of the 
Revolution — one, the contemplation of which ever sets 
the blood on fire, notwithstanding its triteness. Go into 
the House of Burgesses in Virginia, and behold Henry 
in the grandeur of his immortal speech before that body — 
a speech which found an echo in every torrent in the land, 
and which is said to have given the first impulse to the 
])all of the Revolution. While the enthusiastic and indig- 
nant patriot speaks of the wrongs and insults which the 
colonies have borne so long and so loyally, and hurls his 



6G S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

anathemas against the unnatural tyranny of the Mother 
Coujitry, look around over the house, and see the quivering 
lip, the clenched teeth, and the contracted brow. And 
then, when he speaks of the impossibility of a reconcilia- 
tion, and exclaims in a voice of thunder, " The war is 
inevitable — - and let it come ! Yes, sir, let it cojie ! * * 
Give me Liberty, or give me Death!" — behold the 
whole house, nearly every member of whom, when the 
orator began, was opposed to any open manifestation of 
hostility, springing involuntarily to their feet, with the 
sublime sentiment of the master-spirit who controlled tliciii, 
sv/elling in their breast, and flashing in their eye ! 

Who can estimate the probable consequences of that 
mighty achievement of oratory ! Could the immortal pa- 
triot look down to-day from his star^paved city of repose, 
(for he was a Christian,) he would behold some of its 
glorious fruits ; twenty millions of freemen, happy in 
the smiles of peace and prosperity — their commerce 
whitening every sea — their industry rendering tributary 
every breeze and every stream — their cities rivaling in 
beauty and size those of the eastern hemisphere, and their 
" march of empire," in its unbounded and indomitable 
energy, already pouring through the gaps of the great 
western mountains, and planting the banner of freedom 
amid the spray of the Pacific. Yes, he would behold 
Tyranny in the Old World trembling upon her iron throne ! 

Picture, for a moment, another scene of the glorious 
triumphs of this noble art — one in which we shall behold 
the highest oratorical powers consecrated to a yet sublimer 
purpose, and achieving through the Divine blessing, yet 
sublimer results. The graceful and thrilling oratory of 
Whitefield, has never perhaps been excelled, either in 



S U N-R I S E P A P E R S. 67 



or dut of the pulpit. He was, as is well knowiij an Eng- 
lishman by birth, but many of his most splendid efforts 
were made in this country. Let us fancy him preaching 
to one of his vast auditories, upon a quiet evening in 
June, in an open field, as was his custom, for want of a 
Iiouse of sufficient capacity to hold the immense multitudes 
that flocked to hear him. While the mighty assemblage — 
the sea of human life — has been flowing together, the 
angel-stars have all come out, with their golden harps, and 
gathered in the choirs of the constellations upon the plain 
of heaven ; the silvery moon is in their midst, with a 
face of benevolence and love, excelled in brightness only 
by that of the ascended Jesus, when he looks around 
upon the beatitude of the sharers of his glory whom his 
Father has given him; tlie saint-like waters glisten in 
her holy beams, and mirror in their breast the loveliness 
of the skies; the air is filled with the fragrance of the 
incense-flowers, and the pious notes of the philomel. And 
amid this scene of beauty, and of the worship of Nature, 
after a hymn of praise has been sung by a thousand voices, 
and yet echoes and re-echoes among the green hills in 
the distance, the ambassador of Heaven stands up to speak 
of the love of God, the ingratitude of man, and the terrible 
sentence which awaits him in the world to come, except 
he shall repent. " God is love; the smile of his benev- 
olence fills the world and the universe. The sun, which 
will to-morrow dispel the darkness and gloom of night, kissing 
the tear-drops from the drooping flowers, and awakening 
all nature to animation, and joy, and song, is but the 
* shadow ' of His love. All worlds, all creatures, except 
men and the spirits of darkness, and all inanimate things, 
praise him. Listen to the notes from yonder grove ; look 



68 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

around upon the gleaming waters, and up at the singing 
stars ! But there is a day coming * which shall burn as 
an oven !' Woe, woe unto him, who, having bartered im- 
mortality for gain, shall then call in vain upon the rocks 
and mountains to fall upon him, and hide him from the 
face of his offended Judge !" 

As the sacred orator has proceeded, preaching " as 
God does through nature in the sigh of the zephyr and 
the peal of the tliunder," what a lifting-up of grovelling 
affections, what a breaking down of haughty spirits has there 
been among the twenty thousand human beings, composed 
of all ages, sexes, and conditions in life, who have hung 
upon his words, as upon " the strains of some heavenly 
visitant!" The love of the drooping saint has been kin- 
dled afresh, and with a more beautiful intensity; the slave 
of mammom has loosened his grasp upon his pelf, and is 
longing for the incorruptible riches; the infidel has ceased 
to scoff, and is trembling, like Felix, before the power 
of truth; the Pharisee has looked into the " whited sep- 
ulchre" of his heart, and he will not now "so much as 
lift up his eyes to heaven." Joy to the Cross for such a 
spectacle ! The angel-stars which broke forth into song 
when man was created in the image of his Maker, and 
which have ever shed their dewy tears upon the night of 
his degradation, tuned their harps to a mightier hallelujah 
as they beheld him returning to his God ! 

Such is the power and the majesty of Oratory. The 
schoolmen may sneer at this noble art, as being "mere 
trickery and pictures," and better suited to the boards of 
a theatre than to the dignity of the legislative hail, or the 
sanctity of the house of God ; but the friends of a chaste 
and elevated style of oratory, when they consider the sub- 



S U N-R ISEPAPERg. 69 

lime achievements which it has accomplished, and is still 
accomplishing, for liberty, for virtue, and through the Di- 
vine blessing, for the salvation of men— when they also 
reflect that the greatest and most useful public speakers, 
in all ages, both in and out of the Church, have been 
the most ardent students of the art, they may well be con- 
tent to leave unnoticed, alike the sneers of ignorance, 
and the detractions of envious feebleness and sloth. 

And what a noble reward is such a mighty and majestic 
art to enthusiastic and persevering application in its acqui- 
sition; for Oratory undoubtedly is an art — an art of the 
greatest difficulty, but an art, nevertheless. The proverbs 
among the ancients, ^^ Orator Jit'''' et '^ poeta nascitur, non 
fit,'''' were alike founded in truth. Nature, it is true, must 
Jiave bestowed superior powers of mind upon the man 
who can become a great orator,- but she gives nothing 
more than the material. She leaves it to the man himself, 
from a profound study of the principles of architecture, to 
fashion and rear the temple, with its Corinthian columns, 
its lofty architraves, and its " cloud-capped" dome, burning 
in the sunlight amid the heavens. Some of the most, 
essential qualities, indeed, to true oratory — such as re- 
late to elocution— are altogether acquired, as might be 
shown in numerous instances. Whitefield, it is evident, 
from a perusal of his published sermons, owed his irresist- 
ible power, in a very large degree, to the fascination and 
energy of his delivery; and it is truly astonishing how 
much any person of even ordinary natural faculties may 
achieve in oratory, by long and assiduous application and 
practice. Our young men, w^ho have the bar or the pulpit 
in view, but do not aim at a high degree of excellence 
as public speakers because they suppose such an acquisi- 
7 



70 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

tion, however ardently they may desire it, to be beyond 
their reach, should be undeceived in this matter. Let 
them consider the obstacles — the discouraging infirmities 
both of body and of mind — which have been overcome 
by many of the greatest orators that the world has pro- 
duced, and the ardor and perseverance with which all have 
pursued their object, who have excelled in this art. To 
pass by the oft-repeated story of Him of Greece — retiring 
from the public assembly overwhelmed with confusion 
and disgrace, and afterwards going to the sea-shore in his 
unconquered determination, and declaiming to the billows, 
till his words had caught their own grandeur and omnipo- 
tent energy — let them think of the great Chatham, and 
of Lee, the " American Cicero," practising for years be- 
fore a mirror, in order to acquire an easy, graceful, and 
forcible action ; of the untiring application with which 
Robert Hall, and our own Webster, devoted themselves to 
oratorical studies in their youth; aye, of a Broughman, 
shutting himself up in his study for three weeks, in his 
tremendous enthusiasm, to catch a proper inspiration, and 
then writing the peroration of his " oration on the crown' 
over fifteen times before it is brought to its final shape! 
Let our young men think of all this, and " go and do like- 
wise."' '^'Impossible? did you say impossible, Sir?" said 
Napoleon to one of his desponding generals, when the 
Alps stood before them, and glory was beyond ; " Impossi- 
ble? We shall see!" 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 71 



THE GIANT OAK. 

There on the hill it stood, its verdant head 

Amid the clouds, its rriighty feet among 

The rocks. When zephyr dallied with its locks. 

How soft its sighs and whispered words of love, — 

How like the roar of human battle was 

The noise when all its branches fought the blast! 

Upon its lofty limbs the eagles built 

Their regal nest, and reared their noble young; 

And there they screamed unto the rising sun. 

Ere yet the little marsh-wren knew he came. 

How towered in glory then the Giant Oak, — 

Its dewy leaves bathed in the golden beams. 

Screaming its hailings to the glowing orb. 

While yet in gloom and silence slept the vale I 

For centuries there the Giant Oak had stood : 

Stars it had seen go out upon the sky, 

And come not forth again, as from their thrones 

Fell the rebeling angels into night; — 

Stars it had seen from chaos-wand'rings rise, 

And join the anthems of the glittering hosts, 

Like saints from earth to heaven to shine and sing. 

Amid, and o'er the wilderness it towered. 

When hill, and plain, and dale was wilderness, 

And sylvan generations, 'neath its arms. 

Had sprouted, grown, and fell. The moon, which shone 

Upon the sea, when, from the Pinta's deck. 

The thrilling cry, " Land! land."' rose on the night, 

Poured on its slumbering leaves her silvery beams. 

It saw the storm of Revolution rise, 

And when its thunders burst at Lexington, 

It clapped and clapped its myriad hands with joy. 

In the unshackled breeze which swept the hills. 



72 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

There had it stood, and fought the Northern blast,- 
And overcome, for centuries, its rage; 
The whirlwind, which tore up the aged pines. 
Had howled among its gnarled limbs in vain. 

The freeborn yeoman, as at dewy morn 
He sought his flowery field, paused on the hill. 
And gazed upon the Giant Oak with pride. 
And as, year after year, the autumn storm 
Thus powerless howled among its knotty limbs. 
He dreamed the Oak, save to the axe of Time, 
Was conquerless, and in its acre-shade 
He strung his rustic liarp, and sung: 

'•The grand old ook — the Giant Oak, 
How proud upon the hill it towers I 

It strengthens in the winter blasts, 
And brightens in the summer shower?. 

" An hundred years have past since first 
Our fathers danced within its shade; 

And from its acrons sprang the trees 
Of which a warrior ship was made. 

" It taller every year hath grown. 
And greener every budding spring; — 

And to it still an hundred years 
Their wealth of shining leaves shall bring. 

"Howl on, howl on, ye Autumn blasts. 
And pour your hail, O winter storm! 

Triumphant still, the Giant Oak 

Shall rear unbowed its glorious form I" 

Alas! alas! O yeoman, there were foes. 
Undreamed of, or despised, ignoble foes. 
More mighty than the whirlwind and the blast! 
And even whilst thou spake, the Giant Oak — 
The Warrior Oak — was doomed I Aye, even then, 
The field-mouse and the epicurean worm. 



S U N-R ISEPAPERS. 73 

Its autumn wealth had gathered, and had bred, 

Were busy at its roots. And there, unseen. 

While rolled the years away, they revelled on. 

Root after root was severed, till its leaves 

Grew dull and dwarfish, and, at last, yellowed, 

And died, and came not forth again with Spring. 

And then its branches, one by one, rotted 

And fell, and from its trunk the bark pealed off. 

Naked and desolate — swayed by the breeze — 

The picus thrusting to its heart, for worms, 

Her greedy beak — a perch for carrion crows — 

It stood, till Heaven looked on its blasted form, 

In wrath, and said, " Why cumbereth it the ground?'''' 

And her red bolts fell vengeful from the cloud. 

My Country! like the Giant Oak doth tower 

Thy glorious strength, verdant, and to the sky ! 

Thou bless'd of Heaven! how hailest thou the day — 

How shinest in the sun, while yet, in night. 

The nations sleep! And thou shalt tower and thrive 

Triumphant o'er the boreal storms of Time. 

But if Corruption, with her loathsome train 

Of slimy demagogues and parasites, 

Gathered, and bred, and nursed, by '-'■Party Spoils,^'' 

>Shall fester in thy soil — then shalt thou die! 

Not as becomes thy greatness, but in shame; — 

Then shall thy beauty fall, thy strength decay; 

And thou shalt stand, naked and desolate. 

And mocked, as stood the Giant Oak, — as stood 

Old Rome, till Heaven doth rend thee with her bolts I 

O God! forefend, forefend, the cursed day! 



7 t 



74 S IJ N-R I S E P A P E R S. 



VISIT TO NORTH BEND. 

During a late journey into Indiana, I visited North 
Bend — fifteen miles down the Ohio from Cincinnati — a 
place which, like Mount Vernon, Monticello, and the Her- 
mitage, is " hallowed ground" to every true American. 
Whatever may be our differences of opinion upon political 
topics, I trust there are but few persons in any party, 
who do not entertain a profound reverence for all the illus- 
trious men whose patriotism and integrity have shed a 
glory over the history of their country. 

The residence of Gex. Harrison — "the old eagle 
that soared up to the sun to die" — faces the Ohio, at 
the distance of about a quarter of a mile from the bank. 
It is composed of a main two story building (the " log 
cabin") with long one story wings — all of them clap- 
boarded, and painted white. The additions to the main 
building were evidently made as they were needed, with- 
out any particular regard to architectural effect. A row 
of aged trees in front, gives to the mansion a venerable 
and classic aspect. The yard in which it is situated em- 
braces some two or three acres, and in the summer is 
covered with a beautiful carpet of green. Fruit and forest 
trees are scattered over it in various directions. The 
appearance of the mansion is that of the residence of an 
intelligent country gentleman in easy circumstances. 

The farm embraces fifteen hundred acres of good land, 
about nine hundred of which are cleared. There are 
now upon it some ten or eleven hundred head of stock ; 
about half of which are neat cattle and horses. In ad- 



S V N-R ISEPAPERS. 75 

dition to keeping this quantity of stock, the General used 
to raise upon his farm about four hundred bushels of 
wheat. The farm is now managed by W. H. H. Taylor, 
Esq., the son-in-law of Harrison, and a few years since 
the postmaster of Cincinnati. 

The tomb of Harrison, which most engages the atten- 
tion of the visitor, is upon a high mount, about a quarter 
of a mile down the river from the mansion. It is enclosed 
by a handsome white fence in a yard of about half an 
acre, of the form of an ellipse. The tomb is a simple 
stone vault, sunk in the top of the hill, and without any 
inscription on the door — none was needed. It overlooks 
a large portion of the farm, the bright waters of the Ohio 
for several miles up and down the river, and the neighbor- 
ing region of Kentucky. The prospect from the tomb is 
full of grandeur, and in the summer must be strikingly 
beautiful. 

The tomb is a great deal visited by travelers; and I 
was shocked to observe that many had had the foolish 
vanity to carve the initials of their names upon the 
door. Such conduct betrays a pitiable ignorance of what 
belongs to propriety, and is beneath contempt. If their 
respect for the ashes of one of the purest and best 
men that ever lived, is not sufficient to deter them from 
such folly, the humility which it becomes us to cherish 
in the presence of the dead, should be. Capt. Allison 
who keeps the key, and who was at Tippecanoe with 
Gen. Harrison, informed me that a great many even 
apply to him, and offer him money, to open the vault, that 
they may gratify the most irreverent and unblushing curios- 
ity. Capt. A., is poor, but such offers are always, of 
course, rejected with indignation. 



76 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

General Harrison attended Church at the Old School 
Presbyterian Society of the late Dr. Wilson in Cincinnati, 
until a meeting house was erected at Clevetown, within a 
mile of his residence. It is well known that he took a 
deep interest in Sabbath Schools, and I believe he acted 
in the capacity of Superintendent to the one connected 
with the church at Clevetown. 

I plucked a few wild flowers on the outside of the 
enclosure, which late in autumn were shedding their fra- 
grance around the tomb, and came away repeating the 
beautiful ode of Collins : 

"How sleep the brave who sink to rest, 
By all their country's wishes blest! 
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, 
Returns to deck their hallowed mould, 
She there shall dress a sweeter sod, 
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. 

" By fairy hands their knell is rung; 
By forms unseen their dirge is sung; 
There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, 
To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; 
And Freedom shall awhile repair 
To dwell a weeping hermit there!" 



THE CINCINNATI FIRE DEPARTMENT. 

The fire department of this city justly has the repu- 
tation of being one of the most efficient in the Union. 
Its members are not over and above nice about their uni- 
forms — which are much less gaudy and expensive than 
those of the firemen of some of our eastern cities — but 



S U ]\'-R ISEPAPERS. 77 

their engines are kept in the most perfect order, and they 
are always prompt and energetic in the discharge of their 
duty. Let the alarm-bell strike in the silence of midnight, 
or in the almost torrid heat of one of our summer noons, 
and away go the engines in a jiffy, rattling and crashing 
over the pavements, with every man at the ropes ; and 
the boldness and impetuosity with which these noble fel- 
lovvs rush upon the devouring flames, when the scene of 
danger has been reached, will remind you of one of the 
charges of Murat's cavalry in the mouths of the Austrian 
cannon. I had an opportunity of witnessing their prompt- 
ness and efficiency at a fire which broke out yesterday, 
from spontaneous combustion, as is supposed, in the attic 
of a large drug store. In live minutes after the bell struck, 
they w^ere on the ground and battling, like Titans, against 
the destroying element. It made the brain dizzy to see 
the intrepid fellows who held the pipes, standing upon 
the high and tottering roof, with the flames and smoke 
roaring and streaming up all around them. 

The building, notwithstanding it was filled with com- 
bustibles, and the fire had made strong headway when the 
alarm was given, was saved, witli the exception of the roof 
and a part of the upper story. The firemen, to carry out 
the figure which I have used above, came out of the 
action, blackened all over with smoke and cinders. They 
are an honor as well as a blessing to the city — which, 
although fires are of almost daily occurrence, has seldom 
suffered from serious conflagrations. The ladies, by the 
way, to whose avowed admiration I suspect the efficiency 
of the firemen is chiefly attributable, are now holding a 
fair for their benefit; and they certainly could not make 
the young men " pay too dear for the whistle" for a more 
worthy object. 



78 SUN-RISE PAPERS. 



SELF RELIANCE. 



It is a proud spectacle to stand upon the sea-shore and 
behold a noble frigate, seemingly conscious of her strength 
and tired of an inglorious case, cast off her moorings from 
the land, spread her sails to the breeze, and plunge away 
into the vastness and solitude of the ocean. The thunder 
that roars from her side bespeaks her a fit companion for 
the great whale and the leviathan -— an antagonist worthy 
of the hurricane and the mountain billow. " No dastard 
end,*' we exclaim in our admiration, " will be hers. She 
will do no dishonor to the mighty oaks from which she 
was constructed. ' Sink or swim, live or die, survive or 
perish,' she will never shrink from danger and from duly — 
her colors will wave and her drums will beat to the last ! 
And kindred feelings of admiration and confidence are 
excited in our bosom on beholding a young man shake off 
the fetters of indolent dependence, gather up the energies 
of his spirit, and boldly plunge out into the sea of human 
life, to woo its breezes and to battle with its billows. 
There is a true moral grandeur in such a spectacle; and 
we feel that such a young man will achieve something 
worth living for — that he will be an honor to his family 
and a blessing to his country. 

These expectations are never disappointed. It is im- 
}X)ssible tliat such a young man, when his efforts are rightly 
directed, should not succeed. The very act of his thus 
throwing himself upon his own resources, developes and 
strengthens his energies, and prepares him for great under- 
takings. His whole intellectual and moral nature is ex- 



S U N-R I S E P A P E R 6. 79 

panded and ennobled. Besides, under such circumstances, 
he feels that if he succeeds or fails in his undertakings, 
the honor or the shame will be entirely his own ; and thus 
pride becomes a greater spur to urge him onward. Self^ 
confidence also gives a man a tremendous power in every 
sphere of life. It is an old maxim, that, '' when we believe 
we can do a thing, it is already half done.*' In a word, 
the history of Self-Reliance is a history of every thing 
great that has ever been accomplished, either in private 
or in public life. 

Self-Reliance is always characteristic of a noble mind. 
Such a mind scorns a servile dependence upon others, 
having confidence in its own abilities. 

As a means of cultivating Self-Reliance, we should 
often gaze up at the stupendous majesty of our nature. 
We are men; and how mighty are man's powers ! how 
sublime have been his achievements ! And with this 
" divinity" within us, let us never sit down supinely and 
in despair of our powers. 



PRESS ONWARD. 

How beautifully is the reward of resolute perseverance 
illustrated in the history of the expedition which resulted 
in the discovery of this Continent. It is well known that 
the crews of the ships which composed the squadron, were 
frequently disheartened and mutinous during the voyage; 
and that, when they had plunged seven hundred leagues 
into the wilds of an unknown ocean — their vessels having 



80 S U N-R ISE PAPERS. 

become leaky, their provisions nearly exhausted, and ever\ 
sign of land having thus far proved delusive- — their spirits 
entirely sank under the hardships and perils of their situa- 
tion ; they lost all confidence in the success of the enter- 
prize; became terrified for the safety of their lives; and 
threatened to seize the ships, and throw their commander 
overboard, should he not consent to their immediate return 
to Spain. But Columbus was still unappalled and resolute. 
Not all the imprecations of his men, the extreme hard- 
ships and perils of his situation, the disappointments he 
had experienced, and the seemingly increased uncertainty 
of the success of the expedition, could subdue the ardor 
and fortitude of his spirit. By threats and promises he 
prevailed upon his men to consent to continue the voyage 
for three days longer; and, early on the morning of the 
third, the glorious cry of '' Z/awfZ, landP'' rang through the 
squadron! A " new world" had been discovered — the ex- 
pedition had been crowned with the most complete success. 
and its commander, and the sovereigns who had assisted 
him in its outfit, were covered with imperishable laurels, — 
when if the enterprise had been abandoned but two dav- 
sooner, at the importunities of the crews, ridicule anci 
shame would have been the portion of all. 

The incident, so full of encouragement, may be profit 
ably remembered in all the occupations of life. If you 
have launched your bark upon the delusive sea of Fortune, 
and are groping about in search of "land," buflfeted by bi; 
lows, delayed by calms, and nearly disheartened by want (<i 
success, remember that you may be within a few days' sail 
of the golden prize. Don't turn back, come what may — 
thunder, lightning, or hail! — God never made you in his 
glorious, image for a coward. But press onward — keep a 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 81 

good look out for breakers — a steady hand at the liehii 
— an honest reckoning — and it will not be your fault if 
you do not succeed. If you fail, you will do it manfully, 
and will not have the mortification of reflecting, in after 
life, that, with proper resolution and perseverance, you 
might have succeeded. Your labors cannot fail, indeed, 
to be to you a source of sterling profit: for, although they 
should be unsuccessful they v/ill strengthen the energies 
of your spirit, and thus prepare you for success in other, 
and perhaps greater undertakings. 

It cannot be doubted, but that a large majority of young 
men, who do not succeed in business, fail for want of a 
resolute perseverance. They embark with high hopes, 
and leave the harbor, with flying colors ; but soon return, 
disheartened from the first hardships of the voyage ; having 
not only suffered in a pecuniary point of view, but in the 
respect of the public; and, still worse, in self-respect. 
They forget that those waves must be buffeted — that labor 
is the fiat of fate — that- man may cry '^ peace! 'peaces 
but there is no peace for him this side of the grave — that 
the most easy and lucrative business is rarely unaccom- 
panied by disappointment and perplexity — that the path 
to wealth, as well as the path to fame, is covered with 
thorns. Let me not be understood, however, as saying that 
no project, when once entered upon, should be abandoned, 
for the sooner a^i imprudent one is given up tiie better; 
but in nine cases out of ten, even when there are unfavor- 
able circumstances, it will be vastly more to our advantage 
to resolutely persevere in what wc have undertaken. In 
building a fortune, as in erecting a house, much labor is 
iiecessary- to prepare the ground, and lay the foundations; 
and this is a dead loss when an undertaking is aban- 
doned. 8 



82 s u ^-E ISE TAPERS. 

Ill the literary professions, especially, resolute and 
untiring perseverance, while it is absolutely indispensible 
to the achievement of anything above an epliemeral me- 
diocrity, is always crowned with a noble reward. And 
let no young man, who either from a genuine thirst for 
intellectual greatness, or for the highest degree of public 
usefulness, has chosen a life of letters, suffer any neglect 
or disappointment to quench his ardor for knowledge and 
reputation. Let him be willing to practice self-denial — 
to be sneered at by fops for the unfashionable cut of his 
coat and for an enthusiasm which their grovelling souls 
can never feel or appreciate ; — let him continue to labor 
ardently and patiently in the inexhaustible mines of science 
while others are sporting in the green fields and rambling 
by the bright waters of pleasure above, and he shall wear 
a crown of diamonds in the end — a crowts' of diamonds ! 



A CHAPTER ON NAMES. 

•'What's in a name?" — More, I opine, than many 
people fancy. Somebody has said that a good name, like 
an amiable face, is equivalent to a letter of recommenda- 
tion. Somebody else has written a very clever novel, 
entitled " The Victim of a Name.-' 

Names, of course, are of but little consequence when 
compared to qualities of mind or heart; but the posses- 
sion of a very coarse, or a sickly romantic one, must be 
greatly annoying to a person of refined feelings ; and many 
is the poor fellow who is consigned to the "ball and chain- 



SUN-RISE PAPERS. 83 

gang" all his life, by the barbarous taste, or the foolish 
vanity, of his parents. 

Farther — It does not appear to me to be altogether 
moonshine to talk about the influence which the names we 
bear have in forming our character. No other word is so 
often rung in our ears, while we are young, as our christian 
name, and everybody knows that the sounds which we hear 
have a strong influence in the formation of our tastes and 
the refinement of our feelings. So far as my own observa- 
tion goes, I have never known a man with a very coarse 
name possessed of the highest refinement of feeling, or 
one with a sickly romantic name who was not a very great 
ninny. There have never been any poets, I believe, by 
the name of Obediah, nor men distinguished for their 
business capacities, who were christened, Warbeck. 

But, I am anticipating another consideration — the 
influence which our names have upon our prosperity. Who 
would read a book treating upon any branch of elegant 
literature, which a man by the name first mentioned should 
have the temerity to publish ? The British critic who said 
in relation to Timothy Dwight's works, that his christian 
name was enough to damn half a dozen of the best volumes 
of Theology that were ever written, spoke with a delicacy 
of taste worthy the refinement of the age. Or, if a man 
with one of the sickly sentimental names of the day, should 
set up merchant, who would take his note ? Not Shylock, 
the Jew. Again : Supposing an individual whose name 
was highly objectionable in either of these respects, should, 
as a last resort, turn politician; here also he would be 
doomed to defeat. The enlightened people would never 
vote for him. If Gen. Taylor ever reaches the presi- 
dency, he must come before the " sovereigns" as " Old 
Rough and Ready," and not as Zachary Taylor. 



84 SUN-RISE PAPERS. 

in matrimonial prospects, also, names have a great 
influence. No man of taste would marry a woman with an 
uoly name, and no woman either would receive the atten- 
tions of an Obcdiah, without violent compunctions of con- 
science. Wai'beck would stand a better chance with the 
sex decidedly. " I have a passion for the name of Mary,''' 
savs Lover, in one of his inimitable Irish sketches ; and 
he is not the only lover who has felt such a passion. 

There are two or three influences which operate upon 
parents in the selection of injudicious names for children. 
One is a desire, which does more honor to their heart than 
to their head, to retain some stale, homely name in the 
family. Another is a lack of cultivated judgment in this 
respect; and another, a foolish idea that their children will 
be greater or more beloved if they have some high-sounding 
or romantic name; — w^iich owes its origin chiefly to the 
sickly sentimental stories v/ith .which the country is flooded, 
and v/hose heroes and heroines arc all " Alonzos'' and 
^' Milessas.- 

From these reflections, it is clear that names of a plain, 
unostentatious character, are altogether preferable. They 
should have a suflicient number of letters to give them 
dignity, without being clumsey. There is great scope, 
it may be added, for the exercise of taste in the idea 
which a christian name conveys, and in its euphony when 
united to the surname. 

In respect to double names, wlilch are so common in 
this countvy, they are generally burdensome, and do not 
add very much to the importance of the persons possessing 
them. An individual may be George Washington so and 
so, and vrrite his name at full length, even m public print, 
and be a mighty " bag of wind" still. 

Where is John Smith? 



RICE TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. : 



SlIMilSE PAPERS; 



LEAVEIS FROM MY PORT FOLIO^ 



BY J. S. CHADBOURNE, 



We shall have enough of sleep in our graves."— Poor Richard, 



(HincinmUi : 



K0JBI1V80N A' JOISJE!^ 






r^ 



SUN-RISE PAPERS, 

BY J. S. CHADBOURNE. 

^*^ The publishers take cccasiou to i^reseut tlie following from the 
many flattering editoral notices, elicited during the progress of the 
work through press. 

[From the Dailj' Times.] 

SuN-RivSK Papers is thr. title of a forthcomiiM.^ duodecimo, a proof 
sheet of which has been laid upon our table, it is a collection of 
fugitive pieces in Poetry and Prose — the product of leiLniro hours. — 
Their character, we infer, from the few specimens before us, is of a 
moral and ennobling tendency, ytt divested of austerity. The author, 
?*Ir. J. S. Chadbourne, is evidently a profound and discriminating 
thinker, and his style is very pleasant. We bespeak for this gentleman 
and his work the favorable consideration and patronage of the public. 

[From the Cincinnati Chronicle.] 
These "Papers," we infer, from the sheets before us, are greatly 
superior to most of the light literature of the day, both in thought and 
stylo. They are composed mostly of essays, and ma well written. 

[From the Guest— edited by Mrs. R. S. Nichols.] 
" Sun-Rise Papers," is the title of a new work about to be issued 
by J. S. Chadbourne, who has been our sonietirne correspondent. We 
do not much affect the title, but the contents, judging from the proof 
sheets before us, and from our knowledge of the autlior's capabilities, 
will be varied and interesting. The work will comprise a collection 
of loose papers both in prose and verse, the production of leisure 
hours. We wish him much success. 

ROBINSON So JONES, 
printers, publist)ers, Olljeap publication i3^aIcro 

AND PERIODICAL AGENTS, 
No. 109 Mlain Street, abore Tliird Street, CineinuatI, 

OFFER. TO THE TRADE 

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